By the time the gunshot was heard, the neighbors had started to wake up and were now coming outside to see what all the commotion was about. When they saw the weapon and the madman holding it, they fled back inside. Other than one foolhardy Detective, none of the people living there were stupid enough to risk getting shot.

Meanwhile the Detective in question had used this chance to twist himself free. With swift movements, Tony ruthlessly slammed the man's head against the wall several times, until Langer was no longer moving. Letting the bleeding man fall down, he took the gun with him and ran to Gibbs who was now sitting up, holding his left shoulder. "You alright?"

"Just a flesh wound," Gibbs muttered and glared when Tony grabbed his arm and looked at the wound, acting like he didn't even notice the death glare being thrown his way. If he would rather bleed to death than go to a hospital to be fixed up, then Gibbs simply was unwilling to admit when he was hurt. Also, who would like hospitals? At the end of the day, they both were unwilling to show weakness.

"Yeah, but you're still bleeding."

"It's what flesh wounds tend to do," Gibbs said and watched with interest when Tony pulled from his pocket some clean gauze and used it on Gibbs' wound. One could only wonder what else he was hiding in the pockets.

"I don't carry things like this with me everywhere. You just happened to be lucky that today I did," Tony answered the question Gibbs didn't ask.

Trying to move the focus away from his small wound, Gibbs touched Tony's chest with his finger, which caused the man to hiss and finally back off. Gibbs had a challenging look on his face when he glared again. "How are you doing? All that twisting and moving around couldn't do you any good."

Tony rubbed his chest. "Well, you know what they say; what doesn't kill you... No offense, but your former Agent only brings me bad luck."

"You think?"

Shaking his head, Tony stood up. "Speaking of him. What we do to him?"

Gibbs took the offered hand and let the younger man pull him up. "Someone will be here soon. If not the FBI, then the police."

Tony shook his head again with a sigh and walked back to Langer. "You know. I'm a little unsure if he was a school bully who was jealous of the other kids or if he was the one being bullied by the rich kids. Unless it was both; bullied kid who became a bully himself."

"Don't bother your head with that, DiNozzo." Gibbs was going to add something more, but then Langer suddenly moved and Tony found himself in a chokehold. "Tony!"

"And he's... obviously got a hard head..." Tony gasped and winced when Langer slowly stood to his feet, keeping Tony as a shield again, which was a wise move since Gibbs was looking very happy to pull the trigger of his own gun. Tony cursed that he hadn't just kicked the weapon away, but took it with him instead so Langer was now able to take it back. A chokehold and a gun to his head; he really did attract this type of people and situations, didn't he?

"Let him go, Langer. Let him go before you get in a lot more trouble."

"You're one to talk, boss; the almighty Gibbs who uses whatever means possible to achieve his goals and God help anyone stepping in his way. Now, if someone else would do the same... I'm afraid my respect for you died a long time ago. So none of your little speeches or threats move me."

"You're willing to leave this place in a body bag? Because that's the only way I see this ending for you."

"I told you, your threats don't work, Gibbs."

Tony gasped for his breath and kept trying to pull himself free. "Don't think... that's a threat..."

"Shut up!"

Then they heard it. That sweet sound. Police cars. It was a risky situation, since the former Agent might do pretty much anything; kill or run for it. Langer chose the latter and pulling his human shield with him, he quickly made it outside the building where the cops were getting out of their cars. They looked alarmed when they realized they knew the hostage. Tony was distantly aware that there were no detectives, which was good since he got along so much better with these than the fellow detectives who might just as well 'accidentally' shoot him in the progress.

Gibbs kept following them. "Let him go, Langer!"

Langer realized he was surrounded by several cops and his former boss. All looking way too happy for an excuse to put a bullet in him. He barely even realized his head was in pain and still bleeding. Holding Tony the human shield tighter against his chest, he whispered harshly in the young man's ear, "Your car. Where's your car?"

Blinking away the black spots dancing in front of his eyes, Tony thought for a moment about giving a wrong direction, but realized that the risk wasn't worth it so he gave the right one. He locked his eyes with Gibbs for a moment. Once he got the attention, he looked down and then back to Gibbs. The moment of confusion changed into understanding and the older man nodded, hoping that he did indeed understand the message. Holding Tony close, Langer started backing away toward the car, while Gibbs kept following closely. Tony however slowly dropped his hands from Langer's arm, which was holding him in the tight chokehold, and moved them to his belt where he kept his belt knife. He was grateful Langer hadn't recognized it for what it was.

Langer took the keys in his hand holding the gun as they stopped next to the car. For a moment his focus was at the car door he was unlocking. "You know, I planned to make this ride much more fun for us, but looks like it's going to be a little different."

Tony locked his eyes with Gibbs again, with question in his eyes. Removing his other hand from the gun he was holding, Gibbs nodded with clenched teeth and slowly moved closer. As soon as Tony stabbed the arm holding him with his belt knife and Langer let go screaming, Gibbs jumped forward and pulled Tony behind himself. Realizing that he had lost his life insurance and that the cops no longer had a reason to hold back either, Langer jumped in the car the moment the first gun went off. It seemed luck was on his side again when he managed to start the car after the first try and nearly ran over a cop when he drove away.

Tony hissed when his car took the first bullet. "I'll kill him! I swear I'll kill him! He's dead!"

Gibbs gave him a look of sympathy before running to his own car and jumped in. The car was already moving when the door to the passenger seat opened and one very pale Detective sat down. "DiNozzo?" To say Gibbs was surprised, would be an understatement.

"Just drive! The others are already after him! I'm not going to let them have the fun of throwing him on the backseat of a police car!"

Gibbs didn't need more convincing, but by the time he was speeding behind the police cars chasing after Langer, he had glanced toward Tony after every sudden turn. It turned out his concern was not for nothing; ten minutes later it looked like the Detective was ready to go into a full-blown panic attack. And he wasn't breathing. "DiNozzo! You've got to breathe, kid."

Tony opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. He could see the black spots dancing and now they were mixing together with the flashbacks taunting him. It felt like his mind was swimming elsewhere and he barely even heard Gibbs' voice.

"Take deep breaths. Deep and slow breaths. Tony! Listen to me! Deep breaths. Focus your thoughts on the SOB whose ass is about to get burned. Deep breaths. You're not in there. It's here and now. Focus. I know you can do it. Keep breathing."

"I... I got it..." Tony whispered and although his fingers were digging holes in the seat and his deep breathing was shaky and uneven at best, he eventually managed to calm down enough and push back the flashbacks attacking his mind. For a while anyway... To say it was easy, would have been a lie. To say it was hard, would have been making light of the situation.

"Attaboy. Keep breathing... Sharp turn," Gibbs warned and as soon as the words left his mouth, the car took a sharp turn to the left.

Tony closed his eyes, but since it only made keeping the flashbacks under control even harder, he opened them. "Left... Go to left again," he mumbled. Afterwards Gibbs glanced toward him with question in his eyes, but Tony shrugged. By now his hair was glued to his face and he was sweating hard as if it were hot in the car. "Shortcut."

While the drive was a personal hell for Tony, he was surprised he'd made it this far without jumping out of the speeding car or losing his control the way he usually did. Maybe it was because until now no other driver had been both calm and understanding with him and his fears, which was why he had finally given up even trying. His partners at work always thought he had an attitude problem or something when he refused to let them drive the car. It had brought him a whole bunch of problems, but nothing too serious, thanks to Frost. Until he came to Baltimore of course. It was ironic that it was with Gibbs of all people that he now had made it this far. The man with serious temper issues and whose driving style was pure horror for someone like him.

"Right... Then left again," Tony kept muttering the directions and Gibbs found it surprising that he wasn't even questioning it, but just kept driving with the directions. After all, the young man could easily mess up if he wasn't even thinking straight. Having already chosen the shortcut, it was now too late to regret it. "That's strange. We should see him again by now. Especially with the police cars following him. Unless..."

"Unless?"

"Turn right and keep driving."

Another sharp turn and a moment later, Tony gasped. "Oh no. No, no, no... They didn't..! He didn't..!"

They finally saw the reason why they hadn't seen Langer. The car—Tony's car—looked like a complete wreck. It looked like it had turned over at least twice and then back on the wheels. As if that wasn't enough, both the back and front of the car had been destroyed. The beauty had turned into a beast; dead beast, if the looks didn't deceive. Stopping the car at the scene, they saw that Langer looked surprisingly unharmed. There was just a small bleeding wound in his forehead, added to the previous head wound, but that was it. Unless he had cracked his ribs or something, but he didn't seem to be in pain. Instead he looked defeated, being surrounded by the cops and no way out. One of them was walking slowly toward him with handcuffs.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs watched as Tony was already outside the car and running toward Langer. Knowing how much the chest wound still had to be weakening his normal strength, the punch he threw at Langer's face was impressive, throwing the ex-Agent on the ground with a broken nose.

"You—!" Tony hissed and Gibbs joined them when two of the cops were holding the Detective back from throwing another punch. "Let me go, Mathias! A big man like he can handle a few more punches!"

"I've got this," Gibbs told them and not even waiting for their agreement, he pulled Tony away. "Take the SOB to somewhere where the FBI will have an easy access to him. They're already on their way to get him. Tobias Fornell is the guy in charge. Be careful. He's in a bad mood." Bad meaning foul, like the foul language that greeted Gibbs when he had called the man. The mention of the FBI got plenty of unhappy muttering from the cops and Gibbs found himself smirking at it. With one last death glare toward Langer, who wasn't even looking at them, Gibbs turned his attention to Tony and forced him to walk back to the other car.

"So," Gibbs said once they were sitting inside his car again, watching as Langer was taken away in the police car.

"That car..." Tony's voice cracked. "I bought it with someone. I didn't know that much about cars back then so he... Uh... He made sure I chose the best one and we fixed it together."

"Must be someone special then. That was some pretty impressive punch. I think everyone heard it when you broke his nose."

"Yeah, he was," Tony agreed softly, completely ignoring the 'it was impressive' speech. Gibbs flinched at the past tense, realizing that whoever that someone was, had to be dead or gone from the man's life some other way. Seeing how much this affected DiNozzo, the person was most likely dead. "It was the last thing I have of him."

"Tony..."

Tony laughed weakly. "I know it's just a car, but... It's..."

"But it's not just a car."

"It's not just a car."

The men were silent for a moment and by then the cops were gone and Langer with them. Both stared at the wrecked car.

"Gibbs. Just in case Bolton gets a word of this, I think it would be better to go after them and make sure nothing goes wrong, but I... Could you go?"

"DiNozzo..."

"I mean, I'll come too of course. It's just that... I need some fresh air and it's not that far from here and I really..."

"Alright then," Gibbs agreed, but only because he could see the way Tony's eyes never left his wrecked car and the pained look in his eyes. Taking out his backup gun, Gibbs gave it to Tony, who barely even noticed when he was made to hold it. "Be careful and don't stay too long or I'll send the FBI after you." Gibbs was actually trying to joke, but Tony being too far gone in his own mind, and memories, didn't even notice it.

Gibbs watched for a while when Tony got out of the car and how he then with slow and heavy steps walked toward his car. Gibbs wondered if an old friend of his would be able to fix it up for the kid, but even he knew it would not be a simple job... He finally left, knowing that this was one of those moments when a man needed to be left alone.