Chapter 6: You're Crashing, But You're No Wave

His mother nodded. "Yes. McGee was given all of the undercover missions that you were assigned that entire year."

"But McGee had almost no undercover experience!" Tony protested. "There's no way Jenny would trust him to go that deep into cover."

"I think the years have fogged your memory a little, dear. Don't you remember how invested Director Shepard was in her vendetta?" she asked.

"Vividly," he muttered. "I was dodging bullets left and right that entire time, and I was the team's undercover specialist. How the hell did McGee survive that?" His mother pursed her lips in response, brushing her thumb over the top of his hand, her brow creased. She was holding back. "Oh no."

White light. Apparently it was time for showing, not for telling. He found himself and his mother in MTAC, a fact in itself that seemed very strange. He could see Kate, himself, Jenny, and Gibbs standing in the lower portion of the dark room, staring up at the center screen. Kate was at one of the computers, and he was standing in between Jenny and Gibbs.

"Timothy McGregor?" Tony mused. "That's beautifully creative, who's bright idea was that?"

"Mine," Jenny responded tightly, eyes trained on the screen. They were following what Tony recognized to be McGee's Porsche via traffic cams. The grainy footage was tracking it all through downtown DC.

"It doesn't look like he's under duress," Kate commented, narrowing her eyes at the computer in front of her. He wondered curiously if somewhere along the lines, Kate had picked up some computer skills from McGee. "I can't tell if he's being followed or not."

"Look harder," Gibbs responded.

"Wait a minute," he said, glancing sideways at his mother. "I didn't really get blown up, does that mean that McGee-" Tony was cut off before he could finish his statement, as there was a loud explosion on the screen, eliciting a gasp from Tony, Kate, Gibbs, and Jenny.

"Tim!" Jenny's voice cracked, green eyes widening.

"No," Kate whispered, horrorstruck. "Oh my God, no."

"McGee..." Tony trailed off, looking up at the screen in horror. The Porsche was nothing more than burning remains, now. A charred corpse was visible in the driver's side seat.

Gibbs said nothing, but his accusing and rage-filled glare that was directed at Jenny spoke volumes. Tony laid a hand on the nearest desk, using it to support himself as he continued to blink uncomprehendingly up at the screen.

Suddenly, they were whisked away from MTAC. He came to a little faster than usual this time. He and his mother were in autopsy now. He saw Gibbs standing over a burned and charred corpse, Ducky at his side, gripping an X-ray in his hand.

"Are you sure, Duck?" Gibbs ground out, looking as close to nauseous as he had ever seen the older agent. He was losing control. Gibbs never loses control.

"Unfortunately, the dental records have proven that this..." he gestured to the burned out corpse on the table, which was scarcely more than a pile of charred skin and bone. "is Timothy." He let out a deep sigh. "I'm so sorry." Gibbs jaw tensed noticeably, and his fists clenched at his sides. "Jethro... what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to find out who the hell is responsible for my agent's death," he responded tightly. "And I'm going to kill them," he said, before storming out of autopsy. Ducky sighed once more, looking much older than usual as he looked down at McGee's remains.

"I am sorry, Timothy, you were far too young for this. There was so much more you could have done with your life, so much wasted potential..." Ducky bent down lower, as if to whisper in the corpse's ear. "However, trust that your death will not be in vain. If Le Grenouille is behind your demise, his days, or rather hours, are numbered."

White light flashed in his vision once more, and he was back in the booth at the cafe, his mother across from him. He stared down at his hands, and the tears that had been threatening to spill from his eyes earlier finally trailed down his cheeks. He let out a shaky breath. If anyone but his mother had been with him, he would've been ashamed, but he had never been afraid to cry in front of her.

"People who bottle it up, who are too afraid to show how they're feeling, that's cowardly. The ones who cry, who aren't afraid, they're the brave ones," Rebecca said kindly, reaching across the table to cup the side of his face, brushing away one of his tears.

"You always used to say that when I was a kid," he responded, sniffling slightly in a way that made his cheeks flush with embarrassment. He shook his head. "He's dead?"

"If Kate lived, then yes. McGee would have died undercover. You left the hospital the morning after you and Jeanne were held hostage by the drug dealer with Le Grenouille. Tim left in his own car, even when Le Grenouille insisted otherwise... his own car that Trent Kort rigged with explosives," she told him, and his vision blurred as more moisture formed in his eyes. He dragged a hand across his eyes. Damn it, damn it, damn it. McGee and Ziva both...

"God, McGee's dead... What the hell was Jenny thinking, letting him take on that assignment?" he muttered before looking up from his hands and meeting his mother's eyes. "Please tell me that Gibbs killed the limey bastard," Tony said, his voice trembling. "Please."

"He did," his mother responded. "Covertly, too, but under the FBI's scrutiny, they still discovered that Gibbs had murdered Trent Kort."

"They found him out?" Tony asked. "When?"

"Halfway through the summer of 2008. The CIA was so desperate to cover-up what had happened with The Frog that they decided not to 'marginalize' Gibbs, or have him thrown in Leavenworth for the rest of his life. However, this was under the condition that his immediate resignation from NCIS was received. He gave it to avoid the murder charge."

"Does that mean...?"

"Yes. After Gibbs was forced to resign, you took over the Major Case Response Team, permanently," she said with a sigh. Tony leaned back, staring blankly down at his hands.

"So. Boss loses the woman he loves, the job he loves, and one of his agents," Tony summarized. "My life turns out all aces, Gibbs gets a hand of twos and threes." He shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind. He really didn't feel like breaking down into sobs in front of his mother. "What the hell kept him going?" he asked. In this alternate future, everything that Gibbs cared about had been systematically taken from him, one by one.

"Well, he did have a godson to worry about," Rebecca responded, a slight smile playing on her lips that was very reminiscent of his own. Tony's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Godson? Don't you mean goddaughter?" he asked, assuming that she was referring to Mike Franks' granddaughter Leila.

"No, I mean godson," she repeated, reaching across the table and taking his hand in her own.

In a flash, they were in the stark white halls of Bethesda once more, but this time they were not in the long term patient ward. They were in the maternity ward. He saw himself race by him in a flash, panic written on his features. Tony glanced sideways at his mother before the two of them followed after himself. When he turned the corner, Tony saw that Abby and Gibbs were waiting there for him. The Gibbs he saw was the same ghost that had been haunting Jenny's bedside.

"Did I miss it?" he asked, breathless. Abby smiled at him before pointing to the nearby room. His other self paused, seeming to listen.

That's when they heard the screaming. And the swearing. And the threats. "She's waiting for you, DiNozzo. Get your ass in there," Gibbs said, and after a fearful swallow, he darted inside. Tony and his mother followed inside as a nervous thrill worked its way through his stomach. Kate and I have a kid? He'd always secretly wanted to be a father, even though he didn't have any particular talent with kids. He thought that at age forty four, he had been running out of chances to be a father. Apparently in this universe, his wish was fulfilled.

"What year?" he asked his mother as they followed his other self.

"2010."

Once inside the room, Tony found the doctor and a very, very distressed Kate. She was gripping both sides of the bed, face twisted in pain, mouth opened in a perpetual stream of swear words he hadn't known that she even had the capability of saying. "WHERE IN THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN!?" she shouted at the top of her lungs when she saw him. He shrank back slightly, giving her a nervous smile.

"Undercover drug sting. Sorry I'm late," he apologized, moving towards her cautiously and taking her hand in his. A second later, he let out a high-pitched squeal as Kate squeezed his hand so hard he could practically hear the bones in his hand breaking. "Little looser, honey," he managed.

"OH, I CAN DO A LOT WORSE THAN THAT, DINOZZO-"

"Ms. Todd," the doctor interrupted. "He's almost there. Push just a little harder."

"THAT'S WHAT YOU'VE BEEN TELLING ME FOR THREE GODDAMN HOURS!"

"Language, Katie," Tony said gently, trying to calm her down. "Come on, you're almost there." Another squeal as Kate treated his fingers like a stress ball. As the finish line came in sight, Kate let out an ear piercing scream, then sagged back against the bed.

In the doctor's hands was a baby boy with beautiful blue eyes. In a few moments, the baby was cleaned up and swaddled in a blue blanket and passed to Tony, who held the bundle reverently. "Names," Kate managed, sweat dripping down her forehead as she watched her husband hold their son. "We never talked about names."

Tony nodded in agreement, never taking his eyes off of the sniffling child in his arms. "I've got one in mind," he told her.

"What?" she asked, arching a thin eyebrow at him. Tony took a moment before he responded.

"Tim. We'll name him Tim." A brief pause from Kate.

"Timothy no-middle-name DiNozzo?" she questioned with the slightest hint of a smile.

"Yeah," Tony said, returning her smile. "Timothy no-middle-name DiNozzo."

"It's about time you gave me a grandson," Rebecca said from beside him, lacing her hand with his.

White light. This time, he wasn't happy at being dragged away from the scene. That had been... beautiful. Amazing even. He had watched Kate give birth, which while being admittedly gross, had also been one of the most awe-inspiring things he had ever seen. The birth of his son... he'd never thought he'd see it.

Back at the cafe, he found himself alone, standing in the middle of the room. He looked around him. There was no sign of Kate, his mother, or Jenny.

"Hello?" Tony called, seeing if anyone at one of the tables could hear him. "Anyone else feel like chatting it up with me? The afterlife must get boring at some point." It didn't take him long to realize he was talking to himself. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. None of this makes any sense, he thought dismally.

"Nobody ever said it was supposed to," a grizzled voice said from behind him. Tony jumped inadvertently, turning on a dime to face the owner of the voice. Standing a few inches away from him, cigarette pinched between middle and pointer finger, was ex-Special Agent Mike Franks. "Didn't 'spect to see you here so soon, DiNozzo."

"Mike..." he said, smiling in spite of himself. "It's good to see you, old man."

"Hey," Mike rasped, flicking away a few ashes. "Watch who you're calling old. You're getting on in years yourself."

"Ouch. Right in the self-esteem," Tony joked before his expression sobered. "So how's the afterlife going for you?"

"Well, there's none of this 'no smoking area' crap. Benefits of being dead," he said, leaning against the cafe counter as he smirked under his moustache. "But enough about me. We're here for you, after all."

"I've noticed," Tony responded. "So, Mike, do you die in this alternate universe where Kate's still alive, married to me with children, and everyone else's life sucks?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm still in the ground. Different reason, though," Mike replied, taking a long drag of his cigarette. He glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "I'm gonna show you, but I ain't gonna hold your hand."

"I'm okay with that," he said quickly, just as the white light that was really starting to bother his eyes washed over him for the umpteenth time. When it dissipated, he and Mike were standing side by side in a house that he didn't recognize. Kate sat on the couch, holding who he immediately identified as baby Tim in her arms. He appeared to be about one year old. He spotted himself in the kitchen, which was open to the living room. He walked closer, Mike at his side, so he could get a better look at who he was talking to.

Rain pounded against the windows, and he heard the rumbling of thunder outside, along with occasional flashes of lightning.

Gibbs and himself sat at the table, piles of manila folders between the two of them. "Good old fashioned police work," Gibbs muttered, adjusting his glasses. The Gibbs he was seeing now was newly shaved with his hair back to its normal Marine cut. He guessed it was just recently that Gibbs had pulled the plug on Jenny.

"Got to love it," Tony responded dryly. "Head on home, boss. No reason for both of us to stay up all night studying the entire covert ops history of NCIS."

"A gift from me to Gibbs," Mike provided by way of explanation.

"He's right, Gibbs," Kate called from the living room. "You look like you haven't slept in days." Gibbs didn't respond immediately, but he did set down his glasses, letting a heavy breath escape through his nose.

"Thanks for getting me these, boss, I owe you. If I get a medal for catching P2P, you'll definitely get a mention in my speech," Tony said, giving Gibbs a tired smile.

"Alright. Call me if you need anything," Gibbs said, rising slowly from the table. He made his way into the living room, giving Kate a kiss on the side of the head and scruffing the tiny amount of hair on Tim's head. Without another word, he departed, leaving Kate, Tony, and Tim alone. Tony rose from the kitchen table, coming to plop down next to his wife. He put his arm around her shoulders, and she sank back into him.

"Find anything?" she asked quietly, as Tim seemed to have dozed off in her arms.

"So far, all signs point to the CIA," Tony replied. "Jonas Cobb wasn't born a killer, he was made into one... and Vance was part of it."

"I don't trust him," she said. "He's not an agent, he's a politician."

"You're ex Secret Service, aren't you obligated to like politicians?" Tony asked, cracking a smile at her, which she returned. Before she had a chance to say more, she was cut off by rumble of thunder... and the sound of gun shots. One. Two. Three. Kate and Tony both immediately bolted up, Kate gently placing Tim down on the couch. Their hands were both on their SIGs.

"Outside," Kate said, heading for the door. "You don't think-"

"I don't believe in coincidences," Tony replied. "Come on."

Tony and Kate bolted out of the house, guns raised, and he and Mike followed out after him. "Wait a minute," he said. "You died on a rainy night when we were hunting the P2P."

"Yep," Franks growled as Tony and Kate raced down the sidewalk in front of the two story house. He saw a slumped over figure in the middle of the road. Tony and Kate picked up their pace.

Tony fell to his knees, grasping the face of the man on the ground.

Gibbs had two bullet holes in his chest, and blood leaked from the corner of his mouth. His blue eyes were hazy as they stared up at Tony. His SIG lay on the ground several feet away. "Boss," Tony whispered, his voice cracking. "Boss, don't do this to me," he implored him, cupping the side of his face. Gibbs weakly grasped his arm.

"Did... did I get him?" Gibbs asked shakily as a lightning strike lit up the sky for a brief moment. Tony dragged in a ragged breath before answering.

"Yeah... yeah, you got him," he lied, entire body trembling. Gibbs half smirked in that unique way of his. Kate kneeled down next to the two of them, brushing a silver lock of hair out of Gibbs' eyes.

"Gibbs..."

"You're... good kids..." he gasped, his voice barely audible. He squeezed Tony's arm as hard as he could, which wasn't much, before his body sagged into the ground, the life leaving his eyes in a flash.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was dead.