Gibbs yawned and glanced at the clock. Nearly midnight - time to head for home. He turned off his computer, grabbed his bag, and headed for the elevator. He paused as he passed Tony's desk, noticing an envelope lying on the unusually clear surface. An envelope with his name on. He picked it up, a frown growing, and opened it while he waited for the elevator doors to open. The letter inside was short. Only two words - 'Sorry Boss'. He sighed, he'd have to have a chat with Tony tomorrow, explain a few things to him, why he'd been watching him so closely. Though maybe not the whole reason.
The elevator doors opened onto the parking level, and Gibbs stepped out, his hand going to his gun as some instinct told him something was wrong. He scanned the half-empty space, trying to pinpoint what was amiss, his eyes suddenly flicking back to a car which shouldn't be there. A mustang. Tony's mustang. Parked in its usual spot. With the engine running. He ran towards the car, a feeling like ice in his gut as he realised he couldn't see in through the car windows. The interior was filled with smoke. He pulled his tshirt up over his mouth as he pulled open the drivers' side door, so as not to choke on the thick fumes. Putting his hand out, unable to see as his eyes were watering with the smoke, not crying, not crying, he grabbed hold of the sleeve he felt, pulling the heavy, dead weight of his senior field agent out of the smoke filled car. Pulled him away from the area, before gently laying him onto the ground. Before looking at him. Before seeing his friend dead on the ground. Tony. How long had he been sitting in the car like that. While Gibbs was sitting upstairs at his desk. Oblivious. How had he missed this. Tony's voice echoed round his head suddenly - 'Sorry boss', joined by his own voice and other familiar words - too late. He was too late.
