Chapter 2

Tony was pissed and trying like hell not to take it out on Ducky and Palmer, who'd apparently been appointed his keepers. Gibbs' unexpected empathy had him off balance and his emotions swung wildly. He shifted between anger and frustration at being confined to the sidewalk bench like a child, with Ducky and Palmer watching him like hawks on Gibbs' orders, to surprise and gratitude at the lead agent's solicitous behavior and obvious concern.

McGee had even come over to check on him. He had to give the Probie credit, he'd done it on his own, not because Gibbs told him to. That didn't mean he wanted to talk, be consoled, or be the subject of those sympathetic looks the junior agent kept shooting him. Wanting to be left alone for the time being, Tony politely but firmly dismissed the younger man.

"I'm fine, McWorry, just in a little Gibbs directed time out. Get back over there and worry about the civilians." And McGee had done just that, much to his relief. Having little else to do but watch the activity around him, he made some phone calls but was mostly left alone with his dark thoughts. Finally, movement from inside the destroyed shop had him defying Gibbs' orders to stay on the bench. He stood on catching sight of Ducky and Palmer bringing out the gurney carrying Paula's body.

Or what was left of it, his mind supplied morbidly.

Tony moved to stand next to Ducky at one end of the gurney. Understanding his intent, Ducky stepped aside wordlessly, allowing Tony to take his place. Gibbs was standing nearby and his action caught the ever-watchful agent's attention. Tony received an approving glance as he took Ducky's place.

Tony turned to Palmer. "Ready."

In sync, they rolled the gurney to the truck and lifted one end to the back deck. Palmer jumped inside to guide the gurney as Tony lifted from the outside, taking care not to jostle it as they rolled it forward and locked it into place.

Tony hovered as Palmer jumped back down, then watched as he closed the doors. Tony's stomach lurched when the gurney was hidden from view. He just stood there staring at the doors as Ducky directed Palmer to gather and stow their equipment, and then compelled Tony to sit for a brief examination.

Tony sat on the back bumper of the ME truck and allowed the doctor to take his vitals first. One leg bounced restlessly as he endured Ducky's poking and prodding at his sore wrist and hand. Ducky tut-tutted at the minor abrasions received when Tony struck the brick wall, and diagnosed a likely sprain of his wrist.

Ziva stood nearby watching them and trying to make eye contact. If the clues and evidence coming together in his head proved what he suspected, he was even less interested in talking to her than he was McGee. He shot Ziva a dismissive glance then turned his body away slightly to make his disinterest clear. He went back to watching Ducky's nimble fingers assessing his swollen wrist.

"I'll be right back, Anthony. I'd like to get something to wrap this wrist of yours before the swelling gets any worse."

As soon as Ducky moved out of view, Ziva swooped in, displeased with being ignored.

"How are you, Tony?"

"How the hell do you think I am, Ziva?"

Ziva blinked at the icy delivery. She plowed ahead, ignoring both the warning signs from Tony himself, and Gibbs' earlier admonition that she should let Tony be.

"I am sorry about Agent Cassidy," she said, but the words carried little in the way of sincerity. "These things can sometimes happen. In Mossad…"

The simmering anger he'd been struggling to control flared into new life and burned bright with purpose now. He clenched his fists and pain shot through his wrist.

"Ziva," he ground out furiously, interrupting her. "I don't want to hear another goddamn word about Mossad."

The indignation on her face infuriated him even further.

"Tony…," she began, reaching toward him.

"Don't touch me," he warned, pulling away from her extended hand. "In fact, I suggest you keep your distance entirely. Starting right now."

A mask of cool indifference dropped over Ziva's features, but not before he saw her irritation at being rebuffed.

"You are not yourself. We will talk again when you are."

Don't fucking count on it, he thought as she walked away.

Ducky returned a few seconds later with an ace bandage in his hand. He glanced between Tony and Ziva curiously, but wisely said nothing. On securing a promise to get it x-rayed just in case, Ducky began to wrap the wrist and hand in the bandage. Fully aware of Tony's agitation, he worked quietly and efficiently, forgoing his usual tendency to distract his often obstinate patient with a story.

Gibbs approached from Tony's opposite side and leaned against the truck, watching as Ducky finished securing the wrap. The older men exchanged a meaningful glance over Tony's bowed head and Ducky mouthed, talk to him. Ducky gave him an encouraging look before moving away to give them privacy.

"What's happening," Tony asked.

"The Director has assigned an additional team to help." Gibbs sighed internally, the next bit wasn't going to go over well. "We aren't the lead on this case now."

"Like hell we aren't," Tony protested hotly.

"We're personally involved now, and witnesses to boot," Gibbs said reasonably. Tony would understand; he wasn't going to like it but he would understand. He sat next to Tony on the bumper, letting his shoulder brush Tony's lightly.

"An agent died in the line, Tony." Gibbs felt Tony stiffen, radiating fury as he continued. "That's an additional and separate investigation from our case, and we can't be part of it."

"You think I don't know all that?"

"I know you do," Gibbs agreed readily. "So why are you angry at me?"

"I don't know, maybe you needling Paula over every misstep no matter how minor. How about after she lost her team, everyone preying on her insecurities when she was particularly vulnerable," Tony shot back resentfully. "You have this habit of holding female agents to higher standards than you hold yourself to, all except the one who really screws up."

Gibbs frowned at the rant. Tony definitely wasn't in any mood to pull his punches. Tony's assertion was probably fair, but who was he supposed to have let off the hook?

"Missteps get people killed, Tony. You know that, and they need to know it too."

Tony bristled. "You blaming Paula now?"

"Of course not. Paula didn't screw up today."

Tony wasn't finished venting. "Then there's Ziva, who hated Paula's guts practically on sight. She not only implied Paula was to blame for the deaths of her team, but found fault with everything else she did. There was no reason for it I could see other than her warped sense of competition and resentment over my history with Paula," Tony added. "Ziva made damn sure she knew it each time we worked a joint case. You don't think any of that might have played into Paula's actions?"

There was more than the obvious going on with Tony and that was a clue. He was upset about Cassidy, yes, but there was also a tightly controlled fury that Gibbs had rarely seen in his second, and it was concerning. Whatever it was, it might explain the tension between Tony and Ziva, but Gibbs was sure he didn't have the whole picture yet.

Tony needed to find an explanation, what led Paula to make the choice she did. It was equally possible he was still beating himself up over the duty swap with Paula's team and second guessing how he could have altered what happened earlier. Maybe it was memories of two other women who'd died right next him while he was helpless to stop it from happening. The deaths of Kate, and Tony's mother many years earlier, left deep scars on Tony's psyche. He knew what that felt like and Gibbs didn't want Paula's death to be another. He was getting a little closer to zeroing in on what had Tony so combative, but wasn't there yet.

In his mind, the why all boiled down to guilt, that had to be it. Tony's guilt, his own, and more importantly Paula's.

"It may sound trite, but she made the ultimate sacrifice." Tony looked over and gave him a heated glare at that, but let Gibbs continue without interrupting. "Cassidy made a conscious choice to jump through that door, Tony. In doing so, she saved a lot of lives. Including yours and mine," he emphasized. Gibbs paused to consider his next words, really wanting to get them right. "Tony…I really am sorry about Paula, but I refuse to be sorry that we're the ones sitting here right now. I won't lose a minutes' sleep over how damn glad I am that you were a split second too slow to end up on the other side of that door with her."

Gibbs let that sink in a moment then bumped his shoulder against Tony's. "All we can do is accept her choice, and honor what she did."

Tony closed his stinging eyes. Dammit. With his throat too tight to speak, Tony nodded, it was all he could do to concede the points Gibbs made. He swallowed against the lump lodged in his throat a couple times and finally found his voice again.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Maybe it helps," Gibbs shrugged, letting Tony decide for himself how he felt. Tony needed to deal with his grief in his own way. The guilt was another matter, and Gibbs wasn't above another attempt to drive his point home.

"The fact is you couldn't have changed what happened in there, Tony…any more than Cassidy could alter what happened to her team before. In her mind, she got a second chance to make a difference this time and nothing was more important to her in that moment. You weren't quite close enough to stop her and I wasn't quite close enough to stop you," he said, referring to his instinctive grab, the failed but ultimately unnecessary attempt to catch Tony's jacket and keep him on their side of the wall. "Nothing any one of us did or said to her before was going to make a difference in how she reacted today."

As Tony nodded again in acceptance, it occurred to him that the functional mute could be pretty damn eloquent when he chose to be.

Gibbs pushed himself up from the bumper of the truck and stood, turning to where the other two members of his team waited by the sedan. "Come on, Tony. Ziva and McGee are waiting..," he began, offering Tony a hand. "And it's time for Ducky and Palmer to take her home."

Tony reached out with his good hand and allowed the older man to pull him to his feet. He shot a bitter look toward the sedan and turned to face Gibbs.

"No," Tony answered tersely, the dark, angry expression back on his face. "I'll be riding back in the truck with Paula, and escorting her body to Autopsy."

Gibbs looked back to the sedan to find the source of Tony's reignited temper, and saw Ziva watching them, an unreadable look on her face. He thought he'd been largely successful in defusing Tony's anger, but now it looked more likely he'd never been its true target. Who or what was? It seemed he still had work to do there. He had a sinking feeling it was somehow related to the contentious exchange he'd observed between Tony and Ziva, and wished he'd been close enough to hear what had been said. Now wasn't the time or place to corner Tony about it, so he let it go for the moment.

Tony expected an argument, or for Gibbs to call him out on the attitude, but neither happened. Gibbs simply gave him a long, searching look that made him feel like a bug under a microscope, then agreed.

"Alright, Tony."

AN: Chapter three coming soon!