A/N: Tag/mentioning of...wtfever the name of the episode was where Director Sheppard exited the series, and Agent Afloat.

11 00 11 00 11

"Step out of the car! Out of the car!" one of the officers yelled out to John, who was now surrounded by several local PD vehicles, as Gibbs' car pulled up. The team quickly exited the car, approaching the officers, who all had their weapons out and aimed at John's car.

"Hold your fire!" Gibbs called out, holding up his badge as they neared.

"Agent Gibbs?" the officer asked.

"Yeah. He doesn't have a gun. Let me talk to him."

"Your call, Sir," the officer told him.

Gibbs looked to his team, then headed toward John.

"You followed me!" John yelled. "How could you do this?"

"I wanna help you, John. But I can't do that until you come out of the car and turn yourself over peacefully."

"No!" he held the machete up to his own throat.

"John! Don't do this!" Gibbs yelled out.

"I won't let you take me to prison! I can't...can't do this!"

"This isn't gonna solve anything, John," Gibbs got closer to the car. "Put it down, and let's talk."

"There's nothing to talk about! My life is over! I did what I could to protect Ally..."

"And that's the same reason you need to put down the blade, and come out here."

"No..."

"She's already lost her mother, John..."

"It isn't fair..."

"Don't make her lose her father, too."

John's face morphed, tear spilling over his lashes and trailing down his face.

"It doesn't have to end this way," Gibbs said, more calmly. "You did what you could to protect her. You can do this, now, too. Do it for Ally, John. Put down the blade, and come out of the car."

Several moments went by, with John simply contemplating his options. Eventually, his eyes closed in defeat, and he lowered the machete, throwing it out the window. Gibbs moved to kick it away, then opened the door, hoisting the man out...

11 00 11 00 11

Ducky turned the van around, after driving a considerable way farther than where he'd been told. A half mile journey back, he spotted something on the side of the road, and pulled over. He recognized the bottles of water, from the package they'd put in the back of John's car. But the young man was no where to be seen.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Gibbs. It was four rings before the agent picked up.

"You got him, Duck?"

"Quite the contrary, Jethro. I believe I've found the spot where he'd been dropped off. However, young Mr. Palmer is no longer here."

"I've got McNamara with me. We'll head your way."

*~.~*

It only took them five minutes, with Gibbs driving, to get back to Ducky. John confirmed the drop-off point, and Ziva stayed behind with him, while the others went into the wooded area.

"Jimmy!" they took turns calling out, as they walked. It had gotten dark a while ago, and it was starting to get cold.

"He couldn't have gotten too far, could he, Jethro?" Ducky asked. "Why would he leave the road, if he knew we were coming for him?"

"Chances are, he thought it'd take us a while to get here. He didn't know what we were doing. Might've thought John would change his mind; come back for him."

"Boss!" McGee's voice sounded from a bit of a distance away. "Boss, I've got him!"

The two older men took off in the direction of his voice, spotting the two near a large tree base. McGee was crouched in front of Palmer, who was sitting with his back against the trunk, and his knees pulled up to his chest.

"A-agent M-McGee?" the younger man asked, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Yeah, Jimmy," he replied. "We thought we'd lost you, back there. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"N-no... Just c-cold," he told him.

"Well, come on, then, Mr. Palmer," Ducky reached down to help him up, with McGee's help.

"D-Doctor Mallard?" Jimmy met his mentor's eyes.

"Yes, dear boy. Whoever did you think I'd be? You should've stayed put, young man. You gave us quite a scare."

"I'm s-sorry... I though m-maybe...h-he might..."

"It's quite alright, Jimmy. What matters is that you're safe and sound.. Now, let's get you home. I take a look at you, and make sure you're alright."

Palmer swallowed, then nodded, and allowed himself to be led out of the dark woods...

11 00 11 00 11

It was nearing midnight, before Gibbs got back to the house. By the time they'd gotten back to the Yard, it was fairly late. Late enough, that Tony would likely already be asleep, with the new meds the doctor had him on. So he'd opted against calling, in case he'd wake him in the process.

It was dark in the house, indicating that Gibbs was probably right to assume the younger agent had fallen asleep a while ago. He switched on the lamp in the living room, after hanging his coat and setting his keys quietly on the table by the door. Tony's phone sat on the coffee table, beside a near-empty bottle of water, and a hand towel. Gibbs was glad Tony had come out of the bedroom for part of the day, at least. A trip to the kitchen showed him that he'd eaten, washed his plate and cup, and set them off to the side of the sink to dry.

Gibbs made his way toward Tony's room; the light from the hall, casting a bit of a glow into the bedroom. At first, Tony seemed to be peacefully sleeping. But then Gibbs noticed the blanket at the foot of the bed; Tony's legs twisted up in it. And he saw the agent's shoulders twitching. His back was facing the door, but Gibbs could sense the tension in Tony's body...

Dreaming...

"You...your job, everything about you, Tony...I hate it. What you did? To me? That makes you a monster. You're a monster, Tony. And if you don't already know that, you will..."

"I didn't wanna hurt you-"

"I didn't wanna have to hurt you, either. But I can't let you hurt anyone else, the way you hurt me."

"Please, Jeanne..."

"You deserve this. Maybe it'd be a bit easier if you could admit that to yourself and take what I give you."

"Agghhhh!" he screamed as he felt the bones in his hand crack. "S-stop! Stop! PleaseJeannestopstop!" Jeanne didn't even flinch...

"Tony! Tony, wake up!" Gibbs' voice broke through into Tony's nightmare, forcing him to wake. But the pain in his hands remained, and he clutched them to his chest. "Tony?"

"H'rts..." he choked out.

"Lemme see," Gibbs reached out, from where he was crouched beside the bed in front of him, and took Tony's arms by the wrists. The younger agent's fingers were curled in, straining into partial fists. But there was no sign of injury. "When's the last you took your meds?"

"On time," he answered. "After dinner... maybe seven?"

"Shouldn't hurt like this, anyway," Gibbs said, perhaps to himself. "Tony, open your eyes. Look at me," he told him, reaching over to turn on the bedside lamp. In this light, he saw Tony's tear-stained face, and noticed how he was shaking. "Open your eyes, Tony," he repeated, swiping some of the wetness from his cheeks.

Slowly, Tony cracked open his eyes, focusing on Gibbs. "Boss..."

"Hey," Gibbs gave a comforting smile. Tony immediately moved to sit up, backing up against the headboard; embarrassment clear in his stature. "Hey, just calm down, Tony. It's alright," he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, beside him.

"I'm sorry," Tony said, still cradling his hands in front of him.

"Nothin' to be sorry for."

"I was having a nightmare."

"I could see that."

"She was breaking my hands," he confessed. "Why do they hurt, still?"

"Was just a dream. Give it a minute, Tony. Your brain remembers that pain, even if it's not there anymore. It'll pass. Try and do some of those exercises you do with Mags."

Tony nodded, flexing open his hands, then closing them into fists, as he tried to get his breathing back under control and his heart rate back to normal.

"Other than that dream, how'd your day go?" Gibbs asked, trying to get his mind off of it.

"I uh...didn't do too much," he started. "Was hoping to get everyone over for dinner. But you got a big case, McGee told me." Gibbs nodded. "How'd that go?"

"Long story. Maybe I'll tell you about it tomorrow. It's finished, though. Sorry you had to do dinner alone."

"Haven't been alone in a long time," Tony told him, with a small chuckle to try and hide the sadness it was laced in. "Called Jack. Talked to him for a while. He says hi, by the way."

Gibbs raised a brow. "Didn't ask Mags over at all?"

"Didn't have to," he replied, without hesitation. "I didn't have any problems."

"But you were alone," he retorted, not for a moment forgetting what Tony had told him in the hospital; how Jeanne would leave him alone for hours on end.

"I was okay..." he replied, almost in a whisper.

Gibbs moved so that he was sitting beside Tony, against the headboard. "No shame in wanting someone around, DiNozzo," he assured him. "Especially not after what you went through."

"It's been months," Tony countered. "I haven't had a nightmare in a long time. Not like this one."

"You haven't been alone, either," he reminded him. "It's probably what triggered it. We all know that the team can't always be here. But Mags would've been more than happy to come sit with you. She cares about you. You know that, right? It's not just about being your nurse."

Tony swallowed, "I thought I'd be okay." A shiver made its way through his body at the recollection of the dream, and his eyes closed.

"You are okay. You did good, Tony. You can't help what your subconscious throws at you, when you fall asleep."

There were several long moments of silence, and Gibbs took note of the fact that Tony still hadn't stopped shaking; still hadn't stopped the exercises with his hands. "Ya know," he started, in a soft voice, "Eventually, I'm gonna have to go back to my place. I'm gonna be alone every night... How long is it gonna be, before I can sleep through a night, alone, without these nightmares?"

"I don't have an answer for that," Gibbs admitted.

"After Jenny died," he began, bringing up a subject Gibbs hadn't been prepared for, "It took me...a really long time, to even just sleep...without drinking myself into slumber, let alone without the nightmares." His eyes darted around somewhere in front of him, and Gibbs' head turned to watch his face as he spoke. "I think a huge part of that was because I was so far away from all of you." He paused, to swallow a lump in his throat. "Sometimes I just...I don't know. I don't think I can get through things, on my own, sometimes. I...I need...I just..." he shook his head, in frustration. "I shouldn't need you...but I do, Gibbs," he turned to meet Gibbs' eyes, his own reddened and wet. "I'm sorry..."

Gibbs lifted his arm, draping it around Tony's shoulders and pulling him closer, wrapping his other arm around the front of him, and laying Tony's head against the front of his shoulder. "Don't be sorry for that," he told him, in barely a whisper. "I'm honored to be some kinda help for you, Tony...and I'll be here for you, for as long as you need me. And even after that."

He felt Tony let out a shaky breath, and after a few moment, felt the younger man's arms settle around Gibbs' torso; hands clinging to the material of his shirt.

For Tony, he remembered back when Gibbs had come to comfort him almost two months before, and all he wanted to do, was this; hold him back just as tightly. But he couldn't. Those devices had held him back from doing so. But now...now he held on for dear life, and the relief flowed through him so violently, that no structure could've held back the sob that forced it's way out of his exhausted body. And before he could even feel ashamed or embarrassed by his own reaction, he felt Gibbs' arms tighten around him.

And suddenly, he was home...

tbc...

A/N: Big thanks to the reviewers! Sorry I haven't had time to reply individually~