End of an Era
Chapter One
Grief
Disclaimer:
NCIS and all its characters belong to CBS and Donald Bellisario – I'm just playing in their sandbox. I promise to return all the toys when I'm finished. This is just for fun and no profit is being made. I wish it did belong to me, though – I would've played up the bond between Gibbs and Tony a lot more.
Tony sat pensively in one of the plush leather seats of SecNav's private plane – a nifty little Gulfstream jet with a luxurious interior. He stared out the window at the passing wisps of clouds, letting the subdued conversations of his teammates wash over him. They were all aboard the return flight from Kate's funeral in Indiana, and Tony couldn't help but feel that the whole day had been surreal.
Kate's funeral.
Kate, his partner. Snarky, smart, funny, decent, pointy-elbowed Kate was dead. He was still having trouble wrapping his head around it despite the fact he'd spent hours upon hours in the shower trying to scrub her blood and brain matter from his face. Even now, just remembering, he couldn't stop himself from wiping at his face, though he knew her traces were long gone.
"If anything happens to you, I'm going to be stuck working here with Gibbs alone."
Except it was Tony who was left behind – and it wasn't really alone since McGee had joined their team. But it shouldn't be that way.
It should've been him. Not Kate, who had family that were missing her horribly and struggling with how to fill that now gaping hole in their lives. The anguished expressions on their faces were burnt into his memory. Her devastated, practically psychotic brothers and her bewildered parents who looked as if the world had stopped making sense.
Of course, it had.
Kate was gone. Irreparably, irretrievably forever gone.
Tony's brain, so used to cataloging facts and details in rapid succession had noted that her often talked about sister, Rachel, hadn't been there. He couldn't help but wonder why. Why would she miss the chance at a final goodbye with her sister? Tony hadn't wanted to face it, either, but there was no way he could've denied Kate her right to a proper send-off.
She deserved so much more than that.
Although, apparently Gibbs had had second thoughts, as well – or at least that's how it appeared. He'd been late for her funeral. He'd missed the flight there with the rest of the team, without word or message to his second-in-command on what he was doing. He'd casually strolled in towards the end of the service and surreptiously took a seat next to the Director.
Tony had tried to talk to him while they awaited the taxis that would return them to the airport, but Gibbs had brushed him off with a brief, "Not now."
The Director – a woman Tony had yet to get a good read on – had latched onto Gibbs and pulled him into a cab with her, leaving Tony to crowd into the second cab with Ducky, McGee, and Abby.
On the tarmac as they walked toward the jet, Tony had once again attempted to question Gibbs on what was going on, and why he'd been late. Only this time, he was certain that Gibbs was hiding something when he refused to answer any questions. Instead, he'd gone straight to the back of the plane where he still remained talking with the Director.
It certainly wasn't the first time that Gibbs had clammed up and refused to discuss what was going on. Hell, it was one of the taciturn Marine's most prominent traits. He never outright lied to Tony, though. He might avoid, ignore, or unequivocally say it was none of his business, but he didn't lie. And the fact that Gibbs wouldn't meet Tony's eyes when the Director – her eyes brimming with fake sympathy for a woman she'd never even met – informed the team that Gibbs had killed Ari. Well, that alone spoke volumes.
The story reeked.
It wasn't his imagination that Gibbs was being evasive and avoiding Tony, as McGee had suggested. Abby had patted his arm consolingly and told him he was being a bit paranoid, but it was okay since it had been such a traumatic day. Ducky hadn't said anything, but there was something in the elder coroner's eyes that told Tony he wasn't the only one harboring suspicions.
As he'd sat on this return flight stewing over the possible reasons, he'd grown more and more annoyed. He knew Gibbs had been obsessed with Ari from the moment he'd broken into Autopsy and taken hostages – it had been impossible to miss. Tony had barely escaped with his life when he'd told his boss that he needed to watch Moby Dick. Gibbs had been so relentlessly obsessed that he would've made a better Captain Ahab than Gregory Peck.
Still, obsession or not – this had been Kate's funeral, and Ari certainly wasn't worth the risk of missing it since it had been entirely his fault that it was necessary. Tony wanted him dead, too, but he wouldn't have chanced missing Kate's funeral to ensure it happened.
So, when had Ari become more important than Kate?
Agent Todd, who Gibbs had handpicked right off a case the same way he'd picked Tony a couple of years previously. He owed her his presence at her funeral. She'd not only died in the line of duty – she'd died trying her damnedest to protect Gibbs.
Tony and Kate had bumped heads at first. Kate was prickly and overly confident, and she always thought she was right, despite her lack of experience investigating crime scenes. Still, they'd worked out the kinks and had become a really good team under their demanding leader. Tony understood Gibbs, and he could read the difficult man better than anyone. Kate had come to realize this, though he knew it had still frustrated her on how he'd managed it.
Tony hadn't been jealous when Kate joined their – very successful – two-man team. He was confident enough in his own abilities and knew Gibbs relied on his insight, even if the boss never gave Tony the satisfaction of hearing it out loud. Tony knew it innately, and Gibbs knew it, too. So, when Kate came along and most of Gibbs' focus was on the newest addition, Tony let it roll off him. He knew Gibbs liked shiny new toys – hell, he was the same way. It hadn't happened as much when McGee had also joined their team, since Gibbs really had no idea what it was that McGee did, just that they needed help on the growing technology side.
Kate and Tony enjoyed teasing their new partner, and they'd developed the kind of trust and camaraderie that it sometimes took years for partners to build.
"I have a suggestion – we break into Gibbs' basement and set his boat on fire."
He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to get over missing her. It was funny, really, he'd had girlfriends that he'd totally fallen for when he was younger that he didn't miss nearly as much as he knew he'd miss her, and there had never been anything more between them than friendship.
"I should just take you home and get you into bed."
Of course, that didn't mean he hadn't enjoyed teasing her about it. He'd told McGee that she was too smart for that, and he firmly believed it. She was too good for him – completely out of his league even if those words would never actually cross his lips. He had a reputation to maintain, after all.
So, now it had turned out that it was Tony left working with Gibbs, and Gibbs was holding something back about Kate's killer. That thought was eating away at Tony from the inside. He needed some answers, and his stomach clenched at the coming confrontation. If Gibbs wanted to keep whatever secret he was hiding, there wasn't a good chance of making him talk. Hell, getting Gibbs to talk about anything was always a challenge, never mind if it was something he wanted to avoid. Still, Tony had his own stubborn streak, and he was just as determined to know what had happened with Ari. It had affected him, too.
It was still affecting him as he sat on this long flight, aggravated with his boss, devastated by the loss of his partner, and still feeling incredibly weak and out-of-sorts since his bout with Y-Pestis.
"That's right, Tony. Plague. Cause only you would go off and get a disease from the Dark Ages."
Tony would never admit it to anyone, but he hadn't felt right in weeks. Even now, he could hear a very slight wheeze when he breathed, and his chest felt tight and pressured – almost as if a woman was standing on it wearing a spiky stiletto heel.
Not that he had any experience with that.
Still, he didn't know if it was left over from his illness or just the heavy weight of his grief. Absently rubbing the aching spot on his chest, he couldn't believe he'd only returned to work – probably sooner than he should've done – less than a week ago. It seemed as if it had happened in another lifetime.
Still, if he hadn't returned when he did, both Kate and McGee would've been dead. McGee would've opened that trunk, blowing them both away. Although, he supposed he hadn't really saved Kate after all – he'd only given her a couple more days. She'd given him more time than that.
She'd stayed with him when he'd become sick in isolation, even after she'd been cleared. He'd never got the chance to ask her about it. His memories of that time were vague and distorted. His fever had given him some hallucinations, so he wasn't entirely certain what was real and what wasn't. He knew he'd heard her and Gibbs arguing about calling his father. At least, he thought he'd heard it.
Gibbs had been against it – he knew more about Tony's past than Kate did – but Kate could be unwavering when she believed she was in the right. And Kate usually believed she was in the right. He had no idea if this argument had really even taken place – or if either of them had actually called.
What he did know, was that his father had never shown up.
Kate had died with a family missing and mourning her. Tony had almost died with a parent who couldn't even be bothered to show up.
He would've been alone if it hadn't been for her. She'd stayed with him the whole time. She and Gibbs both. Gibbs had even brought him home from the hospital and stayed in his apartment for several days before Tony was capable of being on his own. Even he had to admit that he wouldn't have been able to manage by himself. He hadn't had the strength to even sit up without aid. Kate had brought soup on her lunch hours, and Gibbs had propped him up and whacked him on the back when he coughed so hard that he couldn't breathe during the nights. They'd made their own little supportive pseudo-family.
Now, Kate was dead, and Gibbs had nearly missed her funeral while avoiding Tony like… well, like the plague.
What the hell had happened?
Tony was wound so tight, he needed to hit something. Maybe he ought to forego heading straight home as he'd planned and instead stop at NCIS to use the gym. The punching bag might help him relieve some of this tension before he unwisely took a swing at Gibbs and lost his job – and maybe his life – in the process.
He was pulled from his thoughts when he felt a weight descend on the seat next to him. The smell of gunpowder and whisky alerted him that it was Abby, and she'd had a drink or several while Tony had been brooding.
She was always the smart one.
"Hey, Tony," she said, her voice gentle as if speaking to some kind of spooked animal. She took his hand and laced their fingers, giving it a slight squeeze. "How are you holding up?"
Tony pasted on a bright smile. "I'm good. Trying to catch some shut eye," he replied, hoping she'd take the hint. He wasn't in the mood to put on a show.
Abby frowned. "Don't do that fake happy thing, Tony. Not to me. Not today. No one is buying it anyway," she said, her eyes misty. She'd removed the black veil she'd been wearing, and pieces of her hair tied-up in little knobs were sticking out haphazardly. It made her look distinctly un-Abby-like.
"I'm fine," he said automatically.
"No, you're not. None of us are. How could we be? A piece of our family was just ripped from us. I don't know if we'll ever be fine again," Abby said, her lower lip trembling and a lone tear trickling down her cheek.
He wondered if letting her emotions just go without care helped. Did it ease the pain any quicker? Did it really make her feel better? Tony was used to bottling things up and refusing to dwell on the bad feelings until the good eventually felt real. He didn't know which was the better way of coping. He did know that it wasn't in his make-up to outwardly show his weakness if he could help it.
Still, he couldn't bear to see her sad. "Don't cry, Abs," he said, gently brushing the tear away. "She wouldn't want you to be sad."
Abby looked at him as if he had three heads, shaking her head and making more strands of hair loosen from their knots. "Yes, she would. She'd expect it. She knows we loved her and will miss her. Just like she'd have been sad if it was you or Gibbs that Ari hit instead."
Tony averted his eyes to look back out the window of the plane.
Abby clenched her fingers tighter, refusing to let go of his hand. "There's some crackers and cheese and a few other snacks on the hospitality cart. Can I get you anything?" she asked.
"No, thanks. I'm good," Tony replied, his stomach clenching at the thought of food. Truthfully, he hadn't had much of an appetite in a long time.
"You really should eat something. We've all noticed how much weight you've lost, and you look really pale today," she said.
"Yeah, well, today is anything but normal," he replied darkly.
"I know, but it's not just today. This lack of appetite isn't like you, and I'm getting worried," she said.
Tony grinned bracingly. "Don't be worried. I'm fine. I ate nearly a whole pizza myself just the other day."
Abby rolled her eyes. "You used to do that all the time. Have you eaten anything since the pizza? Timmy says you didn't have any of the breakfast on the flight this morning, either."
"Oh, and what else did McTattletale have to say?" he asked, grumbling.
Abby scowled. "Don't be like that. He's worried. We all are."
"I'm fine, Abs," he said, gritting his teeth.
"Would you stop saying that? This quiet brooding is so not you. Are you still upset that Gibbs was late?" she asked, her irritation beginning to leak through her concern.
"Do you know why he was late?" Tony asked sharply.
Abby shrugged. "I only know what you do – that he killed Ari, and I'm glad he did. I didn't want that psycho coming after me or any of our family again. He was a rabid dog that needed to be put down."
This was so unlike Abby that it took him a minute to process. Usually, she'd even defend a rabid dog.
He nodded. "I agree. I just don't think it had to be Gibbs who killed him, and definitely not today. Something is off, and I intend to find out what."
"I'm sure he's giving our new Director a sitrep, and he'll fill us all in afterwards," she said, sighing.
"A sitrep that's taken the entire flight?" he asked skeptically.
"Well, I'm sure they've other things to discuss. I think they know each other pretty well. They were partners at one point overseas."
"How do you know that?" he asked sharply. He'd been mulling over the connection between Gibbs and their new Director since she'd suddenly appeared in the bull pen a few days ago.
"I did some checking," she replied, smirking.
Tony grinned wickedly. "I love when you show your sneaky side. What else do you know?"
Abby preened. "There's not a whole lot. They did a few undercover missions together but those are classified. He eventually came to DC, but she stayed in Europe before getting involved in the administrative side of things. She's a political climber, that's for sure. I like her," she said, nodding.
"Gibbs seems to, as well."
"But you don't?" she asked.
Tony shrugged. "I don't know her well enough to like or dislike her."
Abby rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that runaround. What's on your mind?"
"It's not her, it's politics in general that make me wary," Tony said carefully. He trusted Abby, but he didn't want it to get around that he already had suspicions about their new Director.
"Tony, you live in DC. Everything's political," she said. And she had a point. Even things that shouldn't be political ended up being so in DC.
"Doesn't mean I have to like it," he replied.
Abby shook her head, apparently realizing she'd been diverted from their previous conversation. She was too clever for her own good sometimes. "Stop trying to distract me from the point."
"What point is that, Abby?" he asked innocently.
Abby squeezed his hand so tightly she nearly stopped the circulation. "Your health, mister. You're not eating, you don't look well, and all this stress can't be good for you. Never mind the fact you stayed out in the rain for hours on end the other day. You're recovering from the freaking plague, Tony. We're allowed to worry. Tim says you have a huge supply of meds in your desk. Have you taken them today? Are you taking them when you're supposed to take them? Because we all know that you don't tend to follow the written instructions and instead make up your own rules. You know, the doctors and pharmacists put in a lot of time and effort into getting these things right so you'll have the best outcome, and you're really disrespecting them by not following their advice. I think you should–"
"Abby!" he had to interrupt her or she could go on until they landed. "I took my meds. Tell McHypochondriac to mind his own business."
"Oh, that's rich coming from you. You go through everyone else's desk on a regular basis. You can't complain when someone does it to you," she said, snapping.
"Of course, I can. Besides, I expect it since that's what makes us all investigators. I know not to keep anything I really don't want anyone to see in my desk at work. It's not a hard concept," he said, rolling his eyes.
"Still, a certain measure of privacy can be expected in your own desk," she said primly.
Tony shook his head. "Not at work – and not when you work with a bunch of investigators. Now you're just being silly."
"I am silly – and I'm also worried about you."
He softened. He always did when she outright showed how much she cared. "I know, Abs, and I appreciate it. Really, I do, but I'm fine. It's just been a long few days."
"A long few weeks, you mean."
"Yeah, that too."
She clutched his hand. "You need to take better care of yourself, Tony."
"I think that's something we all need to do, Miss Sciuto," the Director said, walking up the aisle behind them and causing them both to jump. She raised her voice loud enough for all to hear. "The captain tells me we're coming in for a landing, and once we do, I want you all to go home and get some rest. I'm pulling your team off rotation for the next two days, so you can all take some time to regroup. I don't want to see any of you back in the office until Monday."
This was met with grateful smiles and nods from Ducky and McGee, but Tony glanced back at Gibbs, who promptly averted his eyes. He didn't look happy about the forced leave, and Tony instinctively knew it hadn't been his idea. He'd obviously been overruled, and that never boded well.
They all took various seats and strapped on their seatbelts for landing. Abby kissed Tony on the cheek before moving over to sit next to McGee, who always got a bit tense on takeoffs and landings. They landed smoothly and without a hitch, however.
As they were all waiting for the plane's door to be opened so they could disembark, Tony reached over and tapped Gibbs on the shoulder.
"We need to talk," he said unwaveringly.
Gibbs tried to brush him off again. "Not now. Go home, DiNozzo."
"No," Tony replied, refusing to back down.
You could hear a pin drop inside the plane.
Author's Note
I loved writing my first NCIS story with Baltimore Homicide and that there are people out there who still enjoy reading about the old characters. This story is more character driven than plot driven, however. My favorite stories are the ones that show more of Gibbs' caring side. He's definitely caring here, but I can't help but think that if he was faced with the prospect of losing Tony again so soon after Kate's death, that it would affect him really strongly.
I had it narrowed down to two storylines and couldn't decide on either, so I began writing both. This one won out, so here we go. On the plus side, I already have the next one started.