Disclaimer : I own nothing, but the typos. Oh and the OCs.
Warnings : Rated T for language.
Author's Note : Thank you to everyone who's read, favorited and followed. Extra thanks for the reviews. I truly appreciate them.
Long chapter today. Sorry, not sorry.
We've got one more to go and an epilogue.
-oooooooo-ooooooooo-ooooooooo-
Wednesday, August 5, 2015 - 3:43pm – 3467 Atherton St. NE, Washington, DC – Kingman Park Neighborhood –
Tony blinks owlishly, glancing back between Tim and the door. Mulroney is on the other side, laughing like a supervillain about to dip a captured superhero into a vat of acid. The dog continues barking as though it's about to break down the door and rip them limb from limb. With his muscles tight and anxious, Tim takes a careful step back.
Tony presses his hand to his head. A pounding kicks up behind his eyes, then ravages his brain like wildfire. And he is so tired. Why is so fucking tired?
For some strange reason, he thought he was somewhere else. Here, but not really here.
That makes no fucking sense.
He was just lost in somewhere in his mind, in a world that was so similar to this one. With Zoe as his wife and his two girls, Riley and Phoebe. They were so real—like living and breathing people—not like those dreams he used to have as a kid at military school. Those ones where his mother was still alive and his father was sober and they were a family again.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to pull himself back into the moment, begging his addled brain to just catch up and make some sense of everything.
Was it real?
He glances back at Tim.
If it was, McGee is meant to get hit by a car in a few minutes.
"What the fuck is going on?" he whispers.
"It's a Bull Mastiff," Tim repeats, his face going stark white.
"How could you possibly know that?"
"I dated a girl from Jethro's obedience class who had one." To Tony's horror, Tim's upper lip curls in disgust. "The dog used to bark like that at Jethro all the time."
Tony's mouth falls open. "You don't say."
"Yeah, the dog was saner than she was." Tim edges closer to the porch steps, his eyes skirting back towards the Charger. "Should we call for back-up?"
Tony already has his phone out, but he stops short. While they should call for back-up and animal control and a fucking SWAT team, he pockets his phone. If he does, that will give Jackson Mulroney time to release that midget hellhound and get to his car.
And turn Tim into roadkill.
When Tony unholsters his gun, Tim looks over with wide, terrified eyes.
"Wha…what are you doing, Tony?" He puts his hand on Tony's upper arm. "You can't be serious. There's a dog in there. A big, mean, nasty one."
"With sharp, pointy teeth," Tony quips on reflex.
Tim stares back, dumbfounded.
"Haven't you seen Monty Python and The Quest for The Holy Grail?" Tony shakes his head, stretching for normalcy to keep Tim from panicking. "And you call yourself a McNerd."
"That's what you call me." Another bark, another step towards the steps. "But I don't think now is the time to be quoting movies, Tony."
"Then just stay out of the way," Tony orders.
"But – "
Tony holds his hand out. "Stand down, McGee."
With one fluid motion, Tony kicks down Mulroney's door. It splinters off the hinges, slamming against the wall behind it. Jackson Mulroney stands there, greasy-haired and beady-eyed. He doesn't even get a chance to blink before Tony tackles him. Within a few seconds, Mulroney's hands are cuffed behind his back. By his side is a cell phone with a picture of a vicious dog on the screen.
When the sound of a barking dog erupts again, Tim takes off like a shot. He flies down the steps, over the yard, moving faster than Tony thought was possible.
"McGee! Stop!" Tony yells. "It's just a recording!"
Not hearing him, Tim fumbles to get out the keys for the Charger. It takes one, two, three tries with the remote lock before he dives into the driver's seat. He ducks down behind the door to shield himself from the dog coming to eat his flesh and gnaw on his bones.
Mulroney starts laughing again. "What a pussy."
"You have the right to remain silent, asshole," Tony says, hauling Mulroney to his feet. "I highly recommend you exercise that right."
They are half-way to the edge of the porch when Tony turns back.
He whistles loudly. "Hey Goliath! Come on, boy!"
Near the floor, a familiar face peers around the door. Goliath blinks as though he is seeing the sun for the first time. At the sight of Tony, the dog wags his tail frenetically. He gives a little woof before coming over to slobber all over Tony's pant leg.
"It's nice to see you too." Tony grins at the dachshund. "Let's get out of here."
Mulroney does a double-take. "How the fuck do you know my dog, fed?"
-oooooooo-ooooooooo-ooooooooo-
After swearing on his Mighty Mouse stapler's staples that he won't tell Ellie how Tim ran away from a dachshund like his ass was on fire, they finally head back to NCIS. Tony sits in the passenger seat, watching the world slip past them. Goliath is curled up in his lap, snoring loudly.
Tony struggles to remember the tendrils of that daydream, where he lived the life of another man.
A husband. A father. A better man.
The details fade quickly like when you wake up from a deep sleep, only to watch the dream evaporate as soon as you realize you're still in bed. But there are things, those seemingly inconsequential things, that will be forever written on his soul. The feel of Zoe's skin against his while they made love. The way Phoebe fit perfectly on his shoulder as she slept. The way Riley smiled. The way it felt to be a father.
There was a little boy too. Tim's son. Matty.
He and Riley used to play cops and robbers all the time. Of course, Matty was the robber who always got arrested while Tim and Tony kept a careful eye on them.
I think I finally knew what it meant to be happy...
He hazards a glance at Tim.
With his mouth set into a tight line, the junior agent stares at the road ahead determinedly. His brow is furrowed, hard and unwavering. While they aren't extremely close, they're friends enough for Tony to know there isn't as much joy in Tim's life here as there was there.
Tim glances over, his frown deepening. "Is something on your mind, Tony?"
"Nothing at all, Tim." He half-smiles. "Nothing at all."
-oooooooo-ooooooooo-ooooooooo-
4:34pm– NCIS Headquarters, Washington, DC – Naval Yard – Bullpen –
Sitting at his desk, Tony might as well be a stranger in his own life. There are no photos here, just text bulletins and wanted posters and his beloved Mighty Mouse stapler. Gone are the pictures of his girls and their adventures and that little gold plaque that read Detective A. DiNozzo. While he has been gone from the office less an hour, it feels more like months.
And maybe, just maybe, he wasn't…
Making a face to himself, he reaches for the Mulroney case file to refresh his memory on the case. For some reason, he keeps thinking Mulroney and someone else—Michael Perkins sticks in his head for some reason—should be dead. Trying to push it out of his mind, he reviews his active case, but it's a lot like reading and having to put everything together after the fact.
He glances up to find Tim staring at him intently. When Tony catches him, the junior agent doesn't back down. Instead, he moves in for the kill like he needed Tony to be the one to bring it up.
"It's a good thing Goliath liked Abby, huh?" Tim smiles that anxious one he does when he's trying to make sense of a situation.
Tony half-nods. "Yeah."
They stare at each other in silence for a long time.
Tim is the first to break it. "Are you okay, Tony?"
"I'm fine, McGee," Tony replies, tightly.
There's a long pause where Tony can almost see the circuits in Tim's giant brain firing in overtime, trying to figure out exactly what the hell is going on. Tim bites his lip, wavering.
"You haven't really been yourself since we arrested Mulroney," he says, finally.
Tony shrugs. "It's nothing. I just hurt my leg kicking down that door."
"Yeah, I bet." Tim half-smiles and plays along. "Look, Tony, don't forget that I'm your friend. So if something's going on, you know can talk to me, right?"
"Of course," Tony says, flatly.
Tim can probably smell the blood. "Are you sure everything's okay?"
Unsure how to respond, Tony lets Tim's question hang in the air, lets it fill the space between them, lets it drag them down into a chasm that's wide enough for them to drown in.
What is he supposed to tell Tim?
That in the blink of an eye, he was somewhere else, in some other place in the same time. And that he lived—he fucking lived—six full weeks in the span of a millisecond. That he and Tim had wives, kids and a hedge between their neighboring houses. They worked together, carpooled together, raised their kids together. They were close, real friends in that parallel Twilight Zone. That it felt as real as anything he ever experienced before…hell, it was as real as sitting here in the bullpen.
He pinches the bridge of his nose.
Should I just tell Tim that I'm caught up in the case? I bet he'd buy that.
Tony tests the waters. "Have you ever thought about having kids, Tim?"
Tim's expression softens in surprise. After giving it a moment's thought, he nods slightly. "Of course, I would love to. It's just a matter of the timing and being financially secure."
Tony doesn't fight the silence.
Tim speaks for them. "Are you thinking about that? Now?"
"I just had a thought. Maybe it would be nice to have a daughter." Tony just shrugs, but he can't hide how much there is behind it. "Or maybe even two…"
Tim laughs until he realizes how serious Tony is. Then the humor evaporates from his face when he sobers up to match Tony's mood. "I think you'd be a good dad, Tony."
Something about Tim's tone doesn't match the words. It breaks Tony's heart all over again.
Now, Tony understands just the kind of man he is here. A recovering alcoholic, bonafide workaholic. A man who spent most of his life running whenever things got a little too tough. A middle-aged bachelor who wished himself to be Peter Pan, but couldn't manage to outrun the years.
He is nothing like the man his children love.
He presses his hand to his face. "Forget I said anything, McGee."
"Look, Tony, I didn't mean anything…"
Not listening to his friend try to save face, Tony turns back to his file. When he leans over his desk, something in his suit jacket digs into his ribs. He reaches into the inside pocket, finding hard and cold plastic there. When he pulls it out, the sight of Riley's bright orange cap gun stops him dead.
It was real...
Tony jumps to his feet, gasping with the cap gun in his hands.
Tim's head pops up. "Tony? What's that?"
"Nothing," Tony blurts out. "I need to go. I just need to – "
I had a wife.
Tim stands too. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Everything is okay. It's – "
I had two girls.
Tony's breathing tinges on the edge of hyperventilating. His heart pounds in his chest, kicking up that whoosh whoosh in his ears again. His hands tremble as they hold onto the cap gun, but he just can't put it down, can't look away. He just need to get the fuck out of here before he loses it completely.
He takes a step towards the elevator.
"What's going on?" Tim asks, starting after him.
"You're in charge until I get back, McGee."
I had a life.
When Tim grabs Tony's arm, he flinches like he's been electrocuted.
And you did too, Tim.
It's too real, just too freaking real. Just like how Riley felt in his arms before he came back, how Zoe's lips felt against his, how Phoebe felt curled up on his shoulder.
All of it was real…
Tim's gaze turns wounded as he steps back.
"Can you handle the Mulroney investigation, Tim?" Tony asks, a little frenzied, a little crazed. "Can you do that? For me?"
Setting his jaw, Tim nods like a good senior agent, like a good second-in-command, like a damned good friend. He studies Tony as though he could learn all of his secrets in the blink of an eye. But when Tony won't surrender any of them, Tim finally nods his surrender. Then he clasps his hands on Tony's shoulder and looks him straight in the eye.
Tony doesn't wilt under the touch this time.
"I'll handle everything until you get back." Worry creeps into the edge of Tim's voice as it does on his face. "Just tell me what's going on, Tony. Tell him what you need me to do." He squeezes Tony's shoulders hard enough for it to hurt. "Please, just tell me what's going on."
Tony bites his lower lip. "I really wish I knew…"
-oooooooo-ooooooooo-ooooooooo-
After leaving the NCIS building, Tony wanders the streets of Washington like a lost ghost, still unsure where he fits into the world around him and still unsure how to move on. The longer he walks around the city, the more he feels like the undead. Forgotten and alone to wander the earth until the end of time. No one bothers to look at him and in turn, he doesn't bother with them either.
He feels as transparent as a pane of glass, but with nothing worth seeing on the other side.
He walks those lonely, familiar sidewalks until the sun dips behind the concrete horizon and the sky turns a delicate pink with the wisps of inky night streaking through it. The street lamps buzz on, drawing the moths out from their daytime respite to dance and twirl in the lingering summer heat. Despite his suit clinging to his sweaty body like a latex glove, Tony doesn't even feel it.
Dusk wraps itself around him, settling down for the night before he notices where he is. He stands on an old truss bridge, somewhere on the outskirts of Washington. What once was beautiful and strong slowly decayed as time stripped its paint away to expose the rusting rivets and weak links beneath. While Tony doesn't recognize it, the place feels oddly familiar.
I've seen a film like this once.
He leans against the steel railing, not surprised to feel the warmth of the day still radiating back at him. His eyes survey the lonely horizon, the thick storm clouds parading through the darkening sky, the river that stretches all the way down to Virginia and then to, G-d only knows where. He watches the angry white sprays of the water rage against the grey rocks below. As time slips away, the water turns murky as the moon sneaks out to join him.
Tony wonders what his family is doing, right now. Without him. Wherever they are, he truly hopes they're happy and that him—the real him—found his way back.
What he wouldn't give to be there…
When a warm breeze rushes past, it lingers on his cheeks like a forgotten lover's kiss. He bristles, turning deeper into himself when he realizes he isn't alone anymore.
"Whatever you're thinking, don't," a familiar voice calls.
Tony half-laughs. "How do you know what I'm thinking?"
Instantly, Terrence appears by Tony's side. Not security guard Terrence, but the angel version with his white suit, perfect hair, and stupid, little soul patch. He glows a shimmering white like he is made from the moonlight and stars. His features are tight, confused almost.
"I don't, Tony," Terrence admits quietly, surveying the scene. "But this looks a lot like the scene of the movie that you enjoy watching at Christmas."
"Do you mean It's a Wonderful Life? The one with the guardian angel who gives a shit?"
"Yeah, I do believe that is the one." Apparently, the insult is lost on Terrence. "I do not understand why you reacted the way you did when you arrived here. You learned what you were meant to – "
"You gave me a family. You let me know what it felt like to be loved. Then you took it away!" Unable to stop himself, Tony starts to break down. "For once in my life, I had a real family! And now, they're gone! Did you really expect me to just pick up like nothing ever happened?"
Terrence shrugs slightly. "No one is ever meant to live in a glimpse, Tony. It was meant to show you what could have been and to help you realize your true potential." He waits for a moment before he says: "You are meant for great things in life."
"Does any of it matter without them?"
"That I don't know."
Tony hugs his arms to his chest, chuckles humorlessly. "Can you, at least, tell me what happened to them? Are they happy? Do the girls grow up to – "
"They never existed," Terrence says, simply.
The words rip the whole world out from under Tony's feet.
Suddenly, he feels like he is adrift in the middle of the ocean with no hope of rescue, left to the fate of the open water. He is ready to let himself drown, but it would be far too merciful.
Bile bites the back of Tony's throat as his heart creeps up with it. He retches, but there isn't anything to bring up. His heart stays firmly planted in his throat, twisting and writhing until he can't take anymore. He collapses against the edge of the metal barricade, pressing his head against his hands. When he stops fighting the sobs, they overtake his body.
Somewhere far away, he hears Terrence's voice say: "You weren't meant to get attached to the inhabitants of your – "
"They were my family!" Tony yells, his voice growing louder and more vitriolic with every breath. "They were people who loved me. People who l loved! And you tell me that they don't exist. That they aren't even real! What kind of guardian angel are you?"
Terrence eyes him carefully like he can't understand why Tony unravels before his very eyes.
"Fuck you, Terrence!" Tony yells. "You don't deserve to get your fucking wings! You don't…"
Standing perfectly still, Terrence waits until Tony screams himself hoarse from the pain, until he is sitting on the sidewalk, panting in the summer heat. Terrence's expression shows that he never considered a reaction quite like this. But Tony doesn't give a shit about what Terrence expected or thought or anything right now. He presses his head against the metal behind his head, closes his eyes.
I lost everything that mattered today.
He swallows hard, searching for calm.
After all these years, I finally understand why Gibbs acts like he does.
The hints of a rueful smile dances across Tony's face. Of course, everything goes straight back to Gibbs as though his boss were the source of his life, not an adjunct. His entire existence is tied to the man far more than he ever wanted. And that's what he supposedly learned: that it was high time to break the fucking cycle and live for himself.
Opening his eyes, Tony stares up at Terrence's blank expression. It makes his skin crawl and his stomach churn. So instead, he looks out at the darkness and the empty street.
"I already have my wings," Terrence says flatly. "Clarence only had to earn them in that film. It was just a fictional representation of our purpose."
Tony laughs in spite of himself. "I'm glad you got the point."
"Did you truly love those…" Terrence wavers before settling on "…people?"
"More than anything," Tony says, without a moment's hesitation.
Terrence nods. "What about all the good you are meant to do here? The lives you have saved? That you will save? Do you not care about any of that?"
Conflicted, Tony presses his hands to his mouth. After what feels like a lifetime, he shrugs half-heartedly. "Of course, I do. But does it matter without people to share it with?"
A fleeting look crosses Terrence's face as though he never considered that before he manages to school it away. Crossing his arms, he watches Tony like he struggles to figure out his next move, like this whole fucking mess is just an experiment that blew up in his face.
Tony shakes his head. "You really are the worst guardian angel."
"I won't pretend to understand how you feel," Terrence finally says. "To remain impartial, we aren't blessed with emotions. Therefore, I don't understand the attachment to the people in your glimpse. You were supposed to return ready for the next stage of your life here, not tied to the Transients."
"The whats?" Tony asks.
For a moment, Terrence's face turns uncertain. He preens his suit jacket in an attempt to buy time as though he can't decide how to proceed. Eventually, he takes a step closer to Tony. His expression is honest and earnest, but Tony still isn't in the mood to trust him.
"Transients," Terrence repeats like it explains everything.
Tony stares at him blankly.
Nodding, Terrence seems to concede there is more explaining to do. "Transients are people that may or may not come into existence depending on the free will of the Permanents." When Tony continues staring, he continues: "Those are people destined to make an impact of importance on the world. They have certain goals they will achieve, regardless of how the world has formed. Have you ever known in your heart that you had to follow one choice while other times you were rife with indecision?"
Holding his breath, Tony licks his lips. "Like when I left Philly, I thought about it all night. I still don't know if it was the right choice."
Terrence's eyebrows jump like Tony just proved his point. "What about when you joined NCIS?"
"I knew I was supposed to be there. I couldn't say yes fast enough."
"Because you were fulfilling your preset destiny to protect certain people. People who will go one to change the world in ways you can't even imagine."
Tony makes a face. "How do you fit into all of this?"
"We, guardian angels, exist to help guide the choices of the Permanents, to help you to remember your true purpose in the world. When one of you gets off course—like you have been after the change in your relationship with Leroy Jethro Gibbs—you are often given a glimpse to set things right. To keep the world on track. We weren't certain you needed one until after you saved Timothy McGee." He purses his lips. "That case would have set you up to self-destruct."
"What do you mean 'self-destruct'?"
Terrence just shakes his head, smiles to convey that he already said to much.
While Tony's jetlagged brain struggles to process the new information, he rubs the back of his neck and stares out at the empty street. Terrence waits patiently, kindly for the first time they met. A part of Tony wants to wipe that friendly grin right off his fucking face.
Then Tony glances back to the horizon. The full moon against the cloudless sky full of twinkling stars might be beautiful under any other circumstance. Right now, he just wants to scoop them up, so he can use them all for one big wish. He doesn't even know what he would use it for.
To return to his family? Or to go back to his old, perfectly acceptable life without ever even knowing that they existed? Or just accept that he couldn't have them and wish for the strength to move on.
He releases a labored sigh.
Maybe amnesia would be more merciful.
"What about Tim? Didn't you say he was supposed to die today?" Tony's eyes land back on Terrence. "And obviously, he didn't. So..."
"Your choices prevented that. Thus – " Terrence claps his hands "— and the world changed. But the following set of events were meant to be catastrophic. For both of you. It would have knocked everything completely off course."
For Tony, the explanations aren't good enough. "What about – "
"I've already told you far more than I should have about the workings of the world. I'm sorry that I cannot tell you more," Terrence says like he actually means it. "All you should know is that you are one of the Permanents destined for great things. Like many of those around you."
Tony tilts his head. "Like who?"
"Zoe Keates. Timothy McGee. Delilah Fielding. Leroy Jethro Gibbs. They are all meant to impact the world in their own way, in every rendition of it."
"Why are you telling me all of this?" Tony's face pinches in anger. "Are you hoping that I'll realize I'm super duper special and forget about my family?"
"Not at all." Terrence's frown deepens. "I merely thought I owed you an explanation as to why your family doesn't exist in a parallel plane. As there can be only one version of the world."
"So that's it? I'm supposed to just get up, smile, and go back to work like everything's okay." Climbing to his feet, Tony narrows his eyes at Terrence. "Life just goes on like nothing happened."
When Terrence doesn't reply, Tony screws his lips up in repulsion.
"Some guardian angel you are!" he yells, his voice full of vitriol and hate. "You rip my life apart and act like I'm supposed to kiss your ass afterwards."
Rolling his eyes, he turns away in the direction of downtown Washington. He only makes it a few steps before Terrence calls after him. Tony glances back, expression as hard as the steel on the bridge.
Terrence has his left hand in his jacket pocket. "From a rational standpoint, I believe I should allow you to return to your work and continue with your life. But somehow, you are also right. You were meant to come out of your glimpse as a changed person. A better agent and an even better man. Not a – "
"A total basketcase?" Tony supplies humorlessly.
"Yes," Terrence says, half-nodding. "You are the first person to react so…intensely to the end of a glimpse. And if you return only to miss that family, I have failed you."
Suddenly interested in the angel, Tony doubles back towards him. When Terrence removes his hand from his pocket, he holds a baby blue noisemaker covered in silver sparkles. It glows with the same strange light that the angel does. Terrence draws closer, offering it to Tony as though he were holding out a piece of heaven. His brow furrows as his gaze jumps from the toy to Terrence and back again.
"I don't understand," Tony whispers.
"It is a chance to have the life you enjoyed in the glimpse," Terrence says guardedly. "However, if you choose to go back, you cannot return to the life you know. And you should not intervene to in any matter that could change the course of that world."
Tony hesitantly takes the noisemaker, careful not to set it off. Even though he wants nothing more than to go back to his family, the weight of rewriting the world is suddenly too much to bear. Those who died and those who lived. He doesn't know where to start.
I don't know what to do…
"Before you make any decision, Tony," Terrence says, "you should know you have a child that you don't know about yet."
Tony's eyes widen. "I do?"
"Your…" Terrence considers the word carefully "…time with Ziva David created a daughter."
Tony gasps. "What's her name?"
"Talia." The way Terrence says the name, it sounds like music.
Tony gapes at the mere thought. And out of nowhere, questions pour out of him as quickly as the water rages underneath them. "How old is she? What is she like? Where is – "
Suddenly, Terrence's face turns impassive and he whispers: "I have been recalled."
In a flash, the angel vanishes before Tony's very eyes. If he didn't know better, he would swear that he heard a little bell echo somewhere in the sky above. Maybe, Tony would like to think, Terrence earned his wings after all.
But in the end, Tony is left alone on the dark bridge with his noisemaker and his choices.