I apologize for taking so long to update this and my other story! I was enjoying a nice vacation, but I am now back! Thank you everyone for all the kind reviews, and I hope you had a good holiday season. Enjoy the next installment!

Despite the inherent nature of the bride, the wedding was beautiful, and what almost any girl would have wished for on her special day. The white dress had been perfect, the music was spectacular, and the following dinner was exquisite. It was everything that Ziva David had wished for, yet something was missing.

She couldn't place it. She had just married the most amazing man, the prince of her long forgotten dreams, that she had been discouraged from dreaming in the first place. Her work family was here, which was only an added bonus to this amazing day.

Ray had surprised her by insisting that their wedding be in Washington D.C. so that her co-workers, who were really her extended family, could attend the event. The ceremony had been led by a rabbi, and everything had been perfect. Everyone she wanted and loved was here.

Except for Tony.

It startled Ziva that it had taken her so long to realize it. She supposed that she had been so swept up in the magic of the day and the moment, that she hadn't realized that the class clown, the secretly
sweet, and the man she kind of sort of maybe loved was not present.

It hurt. Ziva couldn't lie, but it hurt that Tony was not here to see her be married. Gibbs had 'given her away', and Abby had squealed and taken pictures when she and Ray finally kissed. McGee had clapped enthusiastically with Jimmy and Ducky.

But Tony was not here.

He hadn't been at her citizenship ceremony either, and his absence at important events to her was beginning to make her angry. He was an important person to her, he should be here. Hell, she wanted him to be here.

She just wouldn't admit even to herself that she wanted to see if he would have stopped the wedding. It wasn't that she wanted it to be stopped, or that she didn't want to marry Ray, but she wanted to know if Tony found her worth it to risk everything for. But apparently he couldn't put his heart on the line for her. He didn't have the courage to try and stop the wedding, to tell her how he really felt.

Ziva knew she wasn't being quite fair. She didn't know what she would have done, had Tony protested her marriage to Ray. She was happy with the CIA agent, and had greatly enjoyed the time they had spent together over the past six months. However, she knew she had lingering feelings for Tony, and she wasn't quite sure what to make of them.

When she finally asked where Tony was, Abby's face had darkened considerably, and Ray had taken a swig of his champagne, clearly unhappy that his new wife was asking questions about a man that he still considered being a threat to his happiness. Abby had opened her mouth, but Gibbs had cut her off, simply saying that Tony had prior obligations, and he gave her his best.

Ziva disagreed. Giving her his best entailed Tony telling her how he really felt about her. That was 'giving her his best'. However she let the subject drop, and she joined Ray in their first dance together. He danced with her across the ballroom, but he was…not very good at it. Ziva couldn't help but be disappointed; Ray had promised to take lessons to improve his dismal skills. He knew that she loved dancing; he might have at least made an effort to do something she loved.

Thankfully she was mercifully saved by Gibbs who swept her into the pseudo-father daughter dance. Now that dance was perfect. The rock hard ex-Mossad agent and the stoic former Marine both dancing sweetly at a beautiful wedding, with tears in their eyes-though they would both deny it with vehemence.

Ziva had a chance to dance with McGee, Ducky, and Palmer, and enjoyed all of them immensely. Ducky told her wonderful stories, McGee teased her lightly, and Palmer was simply adorable in his blushing state, as he kept tossing glances back towards his own new wife, who was simply grinning at the pair.

Eventually Abby pulled her out to dance to some rock song, and Ziva enjoyed letting loose, and letting the Goth pull her into the rhythm. However, she could not help but notice that Ray had not danced with any of her guests, only his own, while she had danced with many of Ray's friends and family members. In fact-she noticed angrily-Ray only seemed to be interested in checking his phone. He could not be going on a mission now! They had wrapped up their own mission six months earlier than planned; they were about to go on their honeymoon!

As the MCRT-minus Tony-were sitting down, Ziva was about to mention what she noticed to Abby, and ask what the scientist made of it, when Gibbs phone rang. Tossing an apologetic look to Ziva-which she responded to with a nod-he, answered his phone with his normal gruff greeting.

McGee quickly drew her into a conversation about the technology she had experienced on her mission, and what she had missed-she noticed he steered clear of mentioning Tony-when Gibbs stood up, his face a normal impassive mask, but displaying hints of worry.

"Let's go. We've got a dead woman."

Immediately McGee stood, as did Ducky, but Abby simply pouted. "Now? Gibbs, this is Ziva's wedding! We promised we would be here for her! We can't leave now!"

"You all were here for me." Ziva found herself interjecting, forcing herself to smile. "I understand that you have to leave. Go, do your jobs. I only wish I could join you."

Tim smiled at Ziva and kissed her on the cheek. "And in two weeks, you will be. You look beautiful Ziva. Enjoy your honeymoon."

Continuing to pout, Abby reached over and hugged Ziva tightly, as if trying to squeeze the disappointment out of her. She just about succeeded too. "I'm so sorry, I really wanted to stay! But Timmy's right, you look gorgeous. I'm so glad you're happy Ziva, you deserve it."

One by one, the rest of them issued her their congratulations, until finally it was only Gibbs who was left. Looking carefully at the Israeli born woman with his piercing blue eyes, he said only, "Good luck Ziver," before strolling out the doors of the venue.

As Ziva sat alone at one of the ornately decorated tables, across the room from her husband, occupied by his phone, she couldn't help but feel that Gibbs' words had sounded more like a sympathetic apology, rather than a well wish to the new bride.

"Gibbs, I thought we weren't on call! I remember you specifically booking this weekend off for us!" Abby complained. She was more than a little disgruntled at having to leave her best friend's wedding, and she had a hinky feeling about Gibbs' phone call. It lasted too long for it to have been just another body.

"We aren't."

"Then why can't we let somebody else take the case?" McGee asked in puzzlement. He too had wanted to enjoy Ziva's reception; after all, it was her special day, and he wanted to help her celebrate it."

"Because the body isn't a Marine, and we aren't conducting an investigation."

"What? But why-"

"Jeanne Benoit is dead, and Tony's son has been sent to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit."

Gibbs' words were met with horror, and then a terrified silence as they all piled into his car rapidly. For once, no one said a word about his driving, as he drove like a madman to get them to the hospital as quickly as he possibly could.

Tony stared at his tiny son, his beautiful little boy, who could probably fit into the palm of his hand. Two pounds, the nurse had said. His son weighed no more than two pounds. His lungs were underdeveloped, and he was born too early. He could die. His son might not make it.

Tony bowed his head in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. He had already lost Jeanne, he couldn't lose his child too. He remembered how he felt, when he arrived at the hospital, and found that his girlfriend, the woman he loved-maybe not with his whole heart, but a large part of it-the mother of his child, his Jeanne had died. The delivery doctor, who he had seen multiple times over the past few months, had told him that Jeanne had managed to deliver the baby safely, and then she had died, leaving one word on her lips. Tony hadn't had to ask the doctor what that word was.

The overwhelming grief he felt at Jeanne's death was nearly all consuming. He felt completely responsible, and he knew in his heart that he was. If he hadn't been moping about Ziva's nuptials, Jeanne wouldn't have felt the need to give him space. She wouldn't have gone driving, and she wouldn't have skidded on black ice.

Tony wanted the tears to come, to cascade down his face, but they just wouldn't. There was something inside of him that was holding him back. He was his own biggest obstacle, and he felt so frustrated, so exhausted, he just wanted to scream in anger.

How could this happen? He had been good the past six months, a better person. Why was Jeanne taken from him? What had he done that had been so awful? Was it because he wasn't one hundred percent faithful to Jeanne, emotionally? Was that why she had died? God, Tony hoped not. He couldn't change the way he felt about Ziva, but he had begun to think that his feelings for Jeanne might grow stronger than the ones for Ziva.

Now he was left, clinging to the hope that his son-born at twenty-six weeks, who would have breathing problems, and a feeding tube, and so many other medical issues that Tony did not even want to think about-would be able to pull through, and survive being born far too early, because of his own father's selfishness.

Tony knew he should be feeling angry, or shocked, or in denial, but he couldn't. He was too tired, filled with exhaustion and grief to feel anything other than emptiness. He wasn't numb, he was empty, and a light that had the potential to fill his every pore, was being dangled in front of him on a delicate string.

So basically he was in the same position he had been in six months ago, when he saw Jeanne again.

The nurse, Olivia, was taking care of his son, but to Tony, his tiny little baby did not look alright. He was in an incubator, hooked up to a ventilator, and about a million other machines beeping and buzzing. Tony hated hospitals, and now his son was here. Because of him. His son would be raised by an only father, who had no idea how to be a parent.

His son would not have a mother, just like him.

Tony tried not to let himself be sucked back down into the dark abyss of guilty thoughts and self prosecution, but it was a huge struggle. Only the sight of his newborn baby managed to keep him alert, and watching the nurse's every move. He wanted to ask questions, but his throat was dry as sand, and his mouth was not working properly.

As if sensing the struggle that Tony was experiencing, the nurse smiled kindly at him. "It can be scary, you know, having a baby in the NICU. I became a Neonatal nurse, after my daughter was sent here. But I promise, we'll take very good care of your son."

Tony nodded his appreciation, swallowing, trying to get his mouth to function, but it simply refused to do so. He finally managed to croak out a hoarse, "thank you."

The nurse smiled at him again, and met Tony's eyes. "What's his name?"

They both knew that she could easily check the bracelet around his too-small wrist, but the question drew a ghost of a smile to Tony's taut face, as he thought about the name he and Jeanne had finally settled on, the name that she had uttered upon his son's birth.

"Caleb."

The members of the NCIS MCRT were all waiting impatiently in the hospital waiting room. As they were not parents or relatives, they couldn't go down to the NICU, and they probably wouldn't have been allowed to anyways. They were all anxious to see Tony, to comfort him, and question him on the well being of his son. No one wanted to think that the littlest DiNozzo was anything but okay.

"Where is he? What's taking so long? What happened?"

Abby was practically bouncing up and down in her seat, her caffeine filled blood pumping erratically throughout her body. She was exuding nervous energy, but her eyes showed true fear and worry for her friend. All her anger and frustration at him was forgotten. She should have realized it would be hard for him to come to Ziva's wedding. He had always had a special bond with his partner, and now she was getting married to someone else, while he was having a baby with someone else. She hadn't really supported him the last few weeks, and she was now regretting that. She had been reminded of just how quickly it could all fall to shit.

"Patience Abigail." Ducky said reassuringly. "I'm sure that young Anthony simply wants to be with his son. He has already lost one love tonight, I do not believe he will be quite so rash as to leave his son, without being quite certain that he is in good hands."

For his part, Ducky did not like this. He was saddened by the fact that the world had lost a good doctor, and a good woman. Jeanne Benoit had become a friend to him over the past few months, and she took care of Anthony. She made him happy, and that was all she wanted. Ducky had come to realize that despite her reaction to her father's death many years ago, she truly was a selfless woman, giving Anthony happiness, without demanding all of his love in return.

Ducky was also worried about the newest DiNozzo. He was not a pediatrician, or a neonatologist. That was a very specific branch, and for once, it seemed like his medical knowledge would not be able to aid him too much. He might understand the basics, but he would most likely be as lost as the others, as most of his patients were dead adults.

"He's going to be okay, Abby." McGee's voice was quiet, but it was unwavering, spoken with utter confidence. "It's Tony, and he's going to pull through this. He always does. And so will his son."

"How do you know?" Abby demanded fiercely. "How do you know that that poor little baby will be okay? He's twenty six weeks McGee! Those chances…those chances aren't good!" Abby's voice was cracking, and everyone could hear how broken up she truly was. "How do you know that they're going to be okay?"

"Because, that little baby is Tony's son. If he's passed on anything to that baby, it'll be our luck for it to be his stubbornness. When Tony had the Plague, his chances then weren't good either, but he survived. His son will beat the odds too."

"But what about Jeanne?" Jimmy Palmer finally spoke up, looking at the team, his hand clutched tightly by a crying Breena. Everyone felt sharp stabs of guilt when they remembered how close Breena and Jeanne had become over the past few months. She had lost her best friend, and they had hardly paid her any mind.

"Tony has already lost her twice, when she found out the truth about the undercover op, and then after she accused him of murdering her dad. He-he really loved her, as much as he could, and now she's gone. I-guys, I don't know how much more shit he can take."

Though Gibbs had yet to speak, he felt that Palmer had summed up his thoughts the best. Tony had been weathering the storm for years, stubbornly holding on through thick and thin. It was quite an admirable quality, despite what Vance might say, however, Tony was reemerging with more and more battle scars as of late, and these ones were on his heart, where Ducky's skills couldn't simply patch him up.

Gibbs knew, more than anyone, what it was like to lose a wife and child. While he doubted that Jeanne had been Tony's Shannon, he imagined that she would have certainly been his Jenny. Gibbs knew that Tony's true love was someone else, but Jeanne was the mother of his child, certainly a position of love and honor. He had felt lost and devastated when Jenny died, and he could only imagine that was how Tony was feeling now.

But to watch his child suffer…Gibbs wouldn't wish that on any one, not even the man who had taken Shannon and Kelly from him. Gibbs had lost Kelly, just like Tony might lose his son now. It was almost worse for Tony, because he wouldn't know. If he was given false hope, only to have to watch his son die…it hurt Gibbs' heart to even think about it.

Tony was strong, yes, but no one was that strong. And unlike Gibbs, he did not have a specific person to blame for the deaths of Jeanne and his son, should his son fail to make it. Gibbs knew without a doubt, should his son not make it, then Tony would turn the blame inwards, to himself. He would spiral into a deep, dark, place, that no one would be able to pull him out of, not even his head slaps, nor Abby's happy radiance.

Gibbs could only make sure that didn't happen on his watch.

Suddenly, an exhausted, grieving, hurting young man entered the waiting room, and the entire D.C. MCRT and Breena Palmer, were on their feet. Thankfully, they all had the sense not to rush to him, though McGee had to grab Abby's wrist to remind her.

Surprisingly, Tony headed for Breena first, encasing her in a comforting hug, speaking into her blonde hair. "I'm so sorry about Jeanne Breena. She always thought of you as her best friend, until the very end."

More tears fell down the pretty young woman's face, but she managed a grim smile, and hugged Tony back. It struck his co-workers how much they truly did underestimate his perceptive skills at time. They always said he wasn't good at empathy, yet he had noticed immediately that Breena needed comforting, and had managed to do it, in spite of his own devastation. It had taken the others, excluding Jimmy, several minutes to remember that Breena had been effected by Jeanne's death too.

Turning to the group, Tony slid his hands in his pockets, and took a deep breath.

"He's…alive. He's twenty-six weeks, and he's in an incubator. They say that he has Respiratory Distress Syndrome. He's hooked up to a ventilator, and he has a feeding tube, among other stuff. The neonatologist said his chances look good, but there might be complications." Tony took a deep breath. "There's a chance he could develop cerebral palsy. There's also a seventy percent chance that he'll be deaf in both ears. But at the moment, he's sleeping, and he's…he's okay."

Tony choked out the last word, and Abby engulfed him in one of her hugs. She slowly stroked the back of his head soothingly, managing to calm him down to some degree. Her heart was breaking for him and his little baby boy, who was hooked up to like a bajillion machines somewhere deep in the heart of the hospital. But no matter what, she was going to be there for him and Tony Junior. But she wouldn't call him that, because she knew how much Tony hated being called 'Junior' by his father. Speaking of calling the baby…

"Tony? What's his name?"

Both Tony and Jeanne had kept silent about what they were intending to name the baby. Everyone knew they had finally picked a name, when Tony came bounding into the Bullpen happily, after a week's worth of fighting with his girlfriend, but he had kept surprisingly quiet about the whole thing. However now, like before, the question drew a smile to Tony's eyes and lips.

"His name is Caleb Anthony DiNozzo."

Everyone smiled. No one had met the little baby yet, but he was Tony's and that was all that mattered. They felt like they already knew him, and they all agreed that the name 'Caleb' just seemed to fit. And the fact that he was named after his father just made everything the sweeter.

"J-Jeanne and I decided on Caleb, but she picked the middle name. I didn't want him named after me, but she insisted."

Once more, Tony was choking on his words, and it once again struck them all that Tony had lost a woman he loved. Again. First Kate, then Ziva to Ray, and now Jeanne to the ice. Abby was suddenly fiercely glad that Caleb was a boy. She was a superstitious being, and she felt that being born a boy had increased Caleb's chances exponentially.

"It's a beautiful name Tony. I can't wait to meet him and tell him about his awesome dad who he's named after." Abby said seriously to Tony, offering him a comforting hand on his shoulder. "After all, I'm pretty sure no one could do that with you."

Tony managed to muster up a grin for Abby, their previous fight all but forgotten in light of the recent tragedy. Looking around at all the faces, he ran a hand over his own face, where stubble was already starting to grow.

"Look, you should all go home. You have work tomorrow, and visiting hours are over in the NICU anyways. The nurse was just nice, and let me see him since I haven't yet. But you all should go, and I promise to call you if anything happens."

Reluctantly-especially in Abby's case-the group all nodded, and began leaving, Abby being the last to do so, and giving Tony an extra tight squeeze as she left. Finally it was only Gibbs who stood across from Tony, just as he knew would happen.

"Jeanne and I both talked about it." Tony began quietly. "I want you to be Caleb's godfather, and Jeanne agreed. We were going to ask Abbs to be the godmother, I just didn't want to spring it on her tonight."

A million thoughts sprang through Gibbs' head when Tony posed that question. Like why the hell he thought that was a good idea. Sure, he was Amira's godfather, but that was different. Leyla was in good health, she wasn't going anywhere, anytime soon. But DiNozzo…DiNozzo put his life on the line every day, and danced across that line many times. Gibbs had wondered when the kid's luck would run out. When it eventually did, Tony' truly trusted him enough to ask him to take care of his only child?

However, Gibbs didn't say any of this out loud. Because he knew, without a doubt, had he still been married to Shannon, and if they had a baby now, he would immediately ask Tony to be the godfather. Knowing what Tony needed and wanted to hear, Gibbs spoke.

"Well I'm not about to let Palmer take care of my godson."

The release of air was visible, as Tony seemed to shrink some. Gibbs' admission had truly been telling the Italian agent that he was going to stick around for Tony, and for Caleb, no matter what curveball life threw at them.

Sitting next to his surrogate son, Gibbs patted Tony on the back, as the man currently had his face buried in his hands.

"It's going to be okay Tony."

He was startled when he realized that he truly believed that.