Again thanks for the sweet comments! I love that you are eager to find out what happened to Tony :)


CHAPTER 3

"Shit!" Gibbs cursed as he kicked the desk. It gave a satisfying noise. He felt sick to his stomach – if he'd been more focused that morning, he'd realized immediately that Stan and doctor Reed had both given him different information. And maybe Reed wouldn't be dead right now.

He breathed deeply through his nose and the sick feeling slowly ebbed away. He was about to start calling out orders to the team when Tony suddenly turned around.

The Italian's arm latched out and grabbed Gibbs' wrist. Tony pulled Gibbs closer until their chests almost touched and then leaned in to whisper in the older man's ear.

"Somebody's hiding in the closet against the wall."

Gibbs shivered from the close contact as he nodded. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as soon as Tony stepped away from him, his gaze inscrutable.

"There's nothing more we can do here", Tony called out, "let's go."

He walked around the room to the closet, making sure his shoes didn't make a sound on the carpet. Gibbs approached the closet from the other side of the room and waited a beat before giving Tony the signal to jerk open the door.

Tony's hand slowly gripped the handle of the door and then opened it in one fluid move.

"NCIS. Get out, asshole." Tony moved to pull the man out of the closet and Gibbs was about to hand him the cuffs when he saw the man pull a knife. Only a split second was needed for the teamleader to bring up his gun to the back of the other man's neck.

"Freeze." He growled, satisfied when the perp dropped his knife and Tony cuffed him to a nearby chair.

At that moment Ziva walked into the doctor's office, followed by Ducky and Palmer. As the ME set to packing up the doctor's body and carrying it out of the room, Ziva nodded to the man they'd just cuffed.

"That's Wilson." She stated.


A day later at the Navy Yard, Gibbs finished up Wilson's interrogation with Ziva. The petty officer had admitted to raping and killing Anthony Harris, as well as killing doctor Reed.

"I don't get why Anthony was begging me to stop. Aren't all gays into that sort of thing? He was lucky to have me." Wilson chuckled.

Gibbs breathed slowly in an extreme effort not to bang the man's head against the table. He packed up the paperwork and followed Ziva out of the interrogation room.

"How is Stan doing?" She asked.

Gibbs shrugged in return. "He's okay."

"McGee still with Abby? Tell him that he doesn't have to come in for the next two days, compensation from Vance for spending the weekend on the Enterprise."

Gibbs watched her walk away and he breathed a sigh of relief. The case was finished and they were back home – maybe now everything would go back to normal. He walked into the observation room next door and stopped dead in his tracks.

The past two days he'd had trouble keeping his head in the game and putting his concern for Tony to the side. His Senior Field Agent was clearly struggling with something but Gibbs had no idea as to what.

Tony was functioning like a robot; he was present but everything he did was… calculated. Without feelings. Usually Tony loved the chase but he always managed to balance it with little jokes and stories on the side.

But he was nothing like that now. His frown had been deepening steadily as he'd worked on gathering intel on the case. As soon as Gibbs let the team go in the evening, he fled the bullpen, only to return in the morning, looking more beat than he had the night before.

And now, Gibbs was standing in the observation room, trying to come up with something to say to his SFA.

Tony was leaning against the glass with his forehead, his eyes still trained on the table where Sam Wilson was seated on the other side of the glass. Gibbs couldn't tell if he was really looking at the man as Tony's eyes seemed to bore their way through him.

The Italian's ever-smiling lips were set in a grim line and the color had drained from his skin.

Gibbs' heart leaped in his throat as his gaze lowered. Tony had crossed his arms and he was slowly scratching his arms. Gibbs saw how his fingertips dug into the muscle and pulled, leaving angry red marks on his otherwise flawless skin. Tony kept scratching the same spot over and over again as if he didn't even notice the pain he must be feeling.

"Tony?"

This time, Tony didn't leap up like he had on the Enterprise. It was like he hadn't even heard him. Gibbs' couldn't spot any sign on the younger man's face that would tell him Tony had heard him.

"Tony." He tried again, approaching him.

"Hmm?" This time, Tony turned to him, as if Gibbs was just going to give him another task.

"Can we go home?" he asked before Gibbs could say anything.

Gibbs felt himself nod, again at a loss for something to say. He reached out to – to do what, exactly? He'd never been a tactile person but the way Tony was behaving had him feeling so off balance that he'd try anything at this point to go back to normal.

Suddenly something flared in Tony's eyes and he looked petrified. It lasted only a second and then it was gone. But he'd clearly not recovered yet because when he spoke, his voice sounded high and strained.

"Don't touch me!" he managed, only above a whisper, before hastily striding out of the room.

Gibbs was rooted to the spot for a moment and when he got his legs to listen to his command to go after the Italian, the hallway was already empty.


Gibbs had been working on the boat but the scene in the observation room kept playing before his eyes. How scared Tony had looked and how he'd… hurt himself.

Usually, when Tony was dealing with something, it helped to make him get it out. It helped the younger man to talk it out and he'd feel better afterward.

But this time, Gibbs only seemed to hurt the younger man more with his presence. It hurt him and he hated himself for being so petty when Tony's problem was obviously eating at him. But no matter how hard he thought about the past few days and weeks, he couldn't come up with anything he'd done that might have pissed Tony off.

He would have preferred Tony to be angry, he could deal with that. But this Tony was… delicate, hurt, distant. He'd felt on edge for days, trying to come up with an explanation.

God, he hated feeling this useless! He was Jethro Gibbs, second b for bastard, damnit! He was never clueless and now he felt like he was missing something, an essential piece to the puzzle, that was right in front of him.

As he dug out his phone to call Tony, the doubt flared up again. There were two options. Either Tony would not pick up and he would have nothing. Or the man did pick up and he'd get DiNozzo's detached voice on the line, asking him if they had a case like nothing had happened.

Gibbs realized that he had to call, if only to stave off his growing insanity for another moment. He pushed the speed dial button and waited for the dial tone but he was immediately transferred to Tony's voicemail.

He didn't realize that he was on the move until he'd grabbed his keys from the bowl at the front door but he suddenly couldn't go back now, couldn't go another minute not seeing the younger man.

He drove on autopilot, his foot flooring the gas pedal and the yellow Challenger growled hungrily. He parked in the middle of two parking spots like an egotistical asshole but he couldn't bring himself to care. As he left the elevator and took the stairs two by two, he was breathing harshly when he finally stood in front of Tony's door.

The gnawing doubt flared up again and Gibbs wondered if he was doing the right thing. Was he doing this for Tony or simply because he needed peace of mind? Just the thought of the younger man was enough to increase his heartbeat and he realized he would do anything he could if it meant that Tony would feel better.

He knocked a few times, barely waiting in between.

"Tony!" he called out between knocks. His gut churned and he dug up his lock-picking kit. He picked the lock and slammed the door open.

His heart missed a beat as his eyes fell on his Senior Field Agent, lying on the couch. For an instant he thought the worst but then he saw Tony's chest rise and fall with his shallow breaths.

As he approached Tony and called his name again, the younger man woke and blinked up, trying to orientate himself. When he seemed to realize that Gibbs had snuck into his home, he sighed.

"I called you." Gibbs offered dumbly, swallowing down the urge to demand answers from Tony.

Tony pushed himself upright on the couch and stared back at Gibbs, his gaze unreadable.

"I'm sorry for breaking rule three." He drawled, his voice surprisingly steady. Gibbs heard his words but Tony's gaze was distant again as if he wasn't sorry at all.

Then Gibbs froze as Tony's hand came up and gripped his thigh.

"Do you want me to make it up to you?" Tony asked seductively as he brought his fingers up to undo the button on Gibbs' jeans.


TBC…