A/N: Okay, so I know I said I'd try to update weekly, but I was wicked sick at the end of last week, so I didn't get a chance to do this until now. I apologize, and am feeling much better now, so here's an update! See first chapter for disclaimer. Tony's language is kinda harsh as the chapter goes on, but it's nothing too bad. Just as a heads-up. :) As always, I hope you enjoy, and please review! :)

Chapter 13: Going Home… Kinda

Gibbs walked into his senior field agent's hospital room, carrying a duffel bag. Tony sleepily looked over at him. "Did you even sleep last night?" Gibbs asked.

"Somewhat," Tony replied.

"Why?"

"Ziva stopped by last night."

"I told her not to."

"It's okay, Boss. She left around 9."

"And you didn't sleep well?"

"I just… couldn't."

Gibbs nodded silently.

"Why does this even matter?" Tony asked, looking at him.

"Because, DiNozzo, I said so," Gibbs replied.

"Whatever."

Gibbs tossed the duffel bag on the bed, and Tony eyed it before looking at him. "Get dressed," Gibbs ordered.

Tony said nothing, opening the bag and pulling out some clothes. Gibbs left the room, closing the door behind him. After a moment, he heard his agent grunt an, "all clear, boss."

Gibbs re-entered the room, sitting down next to Tony on the bed. The younger man was now dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants, both of which hung more loosely on his body than either one of them could remember.

"I take it I'm going home today?" Tony asked.

"That's what the doctors say," Gibbs replied.

"Great. I hate hospitals."

Gibbs smirked. "Yeah, DiNozzo, I know."

The doctor walked in, going over release forms with Tony and having him sign them. After that, he wished Tony well before leaving the room. Without a word, the two men in the room stood up, with Gibbs supporting and guiding Tony down the hallway and Tony trying to get Gibbs to leave him alone. The two made their way to the sedan, Gibbs practically shoving Tony into the passenger's seat while the younger man grunted about the help. Gibbs walked around the front of the car to get in the driver's side.

They drove in silence for a little before Tony said, "I get the feeling I'm not going back to my place."

"Nope," Gibbs affirmed.

"I'm going to your place."

"Yep."

"Fine." Tony turned his head to stare out the window, watching the buildings pass him by as he tried to will the bad feeling in the pit of his stomach to disappear. The last thing he wanted to do was stay with Gibbs and have his boss realize how rough of shape he was really in. On the other hand, not being alone meant he didn't have to think about it all the time.

Gibbs looked over at his silent senior agent, thinking about how much Tony had already been through. And, in this case, Tony wasn't even dealing with it, choosing to ignore it and hide within himself. And Gibbs knew eventually, Tony wouldn't be able to run from this anymore. And when that happened… who knew what the younger man was capable of.

He pulled up in front of his house, and Tony remained still, seemingly lost. "Tony?" Gibbs said softly, putting his hand on Tony's shoulder. Tony jumped, snapping his head quickly to Gibbs. The older man watched him quietly.

"Sorry, boss," Tony said, turning his head away from Gibbs' gaze as he grabbed his bag and opened his door. Gibbs climbed out, helping Tony into the house. This time, Tony didn't grumble about the help. Instead, the younger man settled onto the couch as Gibbs made his way upstairs with Tony's bag. Upon returning to the living room, Gibbs found Tony stretched out across the couch.

"McGee said something about setting up some doo-dads for you," Gibbs explained with a shrug.

"He doesn't have to," Tony replied dismally.

"He doesn't want you to get bored."

Tony half-grinned. "You mean you don't want me to get bored, because you're afraid I'll snoop around your things."

"Do that, DiNozzo, and I'll kill you."

"Eh, whatever," Tony said, shrugging and turning his attention to the blank screen of the TV.

"Helps if you turn it on," Gibbs said after a moment.

"You're giving me advice on technology?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Anyone can work an idiot box, DiNozzo."

Tony shrugged, saying nothing and closing his eyes. After a few minutes, he felt a blanket get thrown over him. Tony opened his eyes to find Gibbs smoothing the blanket down.

"Get some rest," Gibbs said.

"I'm fine," Tony replied.

"Rest or talk are your options."

"Talk? You actually want to listen to me talk?"

"If it'll help."

"Why do you care?" Tony snapped bitterly. "You never get involved in anything in my life, so why the hell do you give a shit now?"

Gibbs said nothing, not sure how to respond to his agent's outburst.

"This is also exactly like you, too. You say nothing when someone asks you questions. You push us harder when you know we're going through hell. You made me call all those people when you knew how upset I was about lying to Jeanne and the way the op had ended. You don't give a shit about someone's feelings. So why the hell are you bothering now?"

Gibbs was silent for a moment before saying, "Because it's what you need."

"How the hell would you know what I need?"

Gibbs sighed softly, not answering. He watched as Tony pushed himself to sit up on the couch before standing slowly.

"You don't know what I need, Gibbs. You take your cues on how to handle me from Ducky, just like you always have. Just like you always will. Because you pretend to know your agents and what they've done in their lives and what they've gone through, but the truth is that you really don't know much of anything."

Gibbs silently watched Tony pace slowly in front of him, waiting patiently for Tony to finish his rant.

"And you don't want to know. So why are you even pretending you really want to now? Why, Gibbs?"

Gibbs kept watching Tony, saying nothing.

"Are you gonna say anything?"

"I was waiting for you to get it out."

"Get what out?"

"Whatever you have to say."

"Is that it? You're just gonna sit there and let me rant and rave like a lunatic?"

"If that's what you want."

Tony sat down on the couch, sighing as he sank into the cushions. "Why do you care?" he asked, the fight draining from his voice.

Gibbs shrugged. "You're part of my team, DiNozzo."

"I don't get it," Tony said, completely calm. "I'm nothing more than a screw up, Boss."

"What makes you say that?" Gibbs probed gently.

"I've been shot, drugged, kidnapped twice, framed for murder twice, almost infected the entire team with plague, blew my undercover op… Do I really need to continue this?"

"I'm still not hearing where you screwed up, DiNozzo. Minus the undercover op."

"I fell in love with her, which was stupid."

"You're human. It happens. We all blow ops."

"Even you?"

Gibbs shrugged. "It happens," he repeated.

"Just happens to me more often than others," Tony said dismally.

"I wouldn't say that, Tony."

"What, are you the all-knowing Gibbs?"

"Depends on who you ask."

Tony sighed, shaking his head. "Whatever." He lay back down on the couch, pulling the blanket over his body. "I can't help but feel stupid about this, Boss."

"You've done nothing wrong," Gibbs assured him.

"I had to have done something wrong," Tony countered. "In order for them to…"

"They wanted revenge. Richard… he was pissed off at me. I had him court marshaled, discharged, and sent to Leavenworth. Chip… he's as pissed at me as he is at you. The other guys were in it for the money."

"I had to have done something to them, too, for them to do what they did."

"You didn't."

"I'm a horrible person."

Gibbs sighed, moving closer to the arm of the couch where Tony had laid his head. He smoothed his hand over Tony's hair, just as he had done in the hospital. Tony shook his head, trying to shake Gibbs' hand away.

"I'm tired," Tony said, sitting up.

"You know where the room is," Gibbs said softly. Tony nodded, standing and walking up the stairs. Gibbs watched him quietly as Tony disappeared down the hall.

Tony walked into the guest bedroom, closing the door behind him. He kicked off his shoes and flopped onto the bed, burying his face into the pillow. He felt the tears of embarrassment sting his eyes, and he allowed them to fall into the pillow in the solitude of the room. He kept himself from sobbing out loud, knowing that Gibbs wouldn't stay downstairs for long and he didn't want Gibbs to see him cry again. While he had some dignity left in him, he wanted to hold onto it.

He hated himself for this. DiNozzo's weren't this weak. They didn't cry into their pillow. They didn't let things like this break them so badly. But he couldn't help it, and he couldn't stop himself.

He was this weak. And that's what killed him.