Warnings: Deals with mental illness/depression/suicidal thoughts/alcoholism; spoilers for anything up to s13.

A/N: Here is the next update. Please let me know what you think. I hope you enjoy it!


Timothy McGee dusted off the top of the desk in front of him. It had been occupied by Clayton Reeves for the summer, but the MI-6 operative had been called back to England for assignment and now, the desk was eagerly awaiting its rightful owner, who at any moment was due to arrive from the airport.

It wasn't like the team had not operated without Tony, they had, quite well, but Gibbs had been in even more of funk since the senior field agent had taken the leave of absence. The team leader's odd behavior since Tony had been shot and then Tony extended his leave of absence beyond the recommended time had been quite a shock to Tim. He had hoped that Gibbs would have shown more emotion after everything the team had been through that year but it was like Gibbs didn't care what had happened to his agent, and Tony had once been one of his closest friends…

Ellie plopped a coffee down onto the desk and smiled brightly. "I got Tony's favorite. Figured it would be something nice and welcoming."

Tim returned the smile. He had missed his best friend the last few months. Tim and Delilah had only seen Tony, briefly, when they joined the DiNozzos on the Cape for a weekend. Tony had distanced himself from his visitors, leaving Leah to entertain them. "I think Tony's ready to come home. He was quiet when Delilah and I went to visit him."

"I'm sure Leah is ready to send him back to work," Ellie teased as she sat down at her desk. "Someone as active as Tony doesn't like to sit still for very long."

"Probably driving her crazy," Tim muttered. "Tony was never made for staying in one place for too long. He needs the action."

Ellie glanced at Tony's desk. She had only seen him once since he had left—at Tim and Delilah's wedding in July. The DiNozzos had just returned from Italy. Tony seemed content, smiling, life had settled for the family."What do we know about this case?" she asked, changing the subject.

Tim brought the file up onto the plasma. "Tommy Merchant was seventeen when he was arrested for murdering three women. He tortured them, sadistically, before killing them. Paralyzed them so they couldn't fight back. The neurotoxin found in Patricia Wakefield's body connects Merchant to the case., it was the same one used in the previous three murders."

"His life in prison was hard," Ellie remarked. "Numerous trips to the infirmary for injuries inflicted by other inmates."

"He was in with a lot of lifers," Tim said. "Not surprising he became their target, seeing how young he was."

"Going after all these people he feels are responsible for his torture… it's a long list."

"Well, he already got one—the lawyer."

Ellie flipped open her file folder. "The judge that oversaw his trial passed away last year—the D.A retired and moved to the Florida Keys. That leaves Gibbs, Tony, Ducky, and Abby."

Tim nodded. "Abby and Ducky have protection details. Metro was considering the locations of the jury."

She sighed. "Do you think he'd go after the jury?"

"Yes," Tony's hard voice snapped, announcing his arrival. "He's a cold-blooded killer."

Ellie beamed when she saw him, her brown eyes sparkling with welcome, but as she got up to give him a hug… she could feel the tension rolling off of him in waves. "Welcome back! I got… I got your favorite coffee. It's on your desk."

Tony softly thanked her and picked the coffee up, looking down at his desk with a frown. "Not my desk—it's Reeves'. Where is the suave Brit anyways?"

Tim was rattled by Tony's cold, stiff demeanor. This wasn't like Tony. "He had to go back to England for a while. MI-6 had an assignment for him. They said they could loan him back to us when the assignment was complete."

He grunted an answer and sat down at his desk. Tony flipped his computer on and stared at the screen, lost in the memories of the last time he sat here. Life had just been about to be turned upside down, completely… he wasn't sure if he had turned it back right side up yet. Leah would say no…

"Did you have a good flight?" Ellie asked, making small talk.

"It was fine. Quick and painless," Tony said with a shrug.

"Gibbs talk at all?" Tim questioned.

"No. What do we have to talk about?" Tony threw out, hotly.

Tim blinked. "You… you always find something to talk about."

Tony grabbed his coffee and stood up. "Yeah, and things change," he snarled. "Going to go say hi to Abs."

Ellie moved out of his way, startled by the outburst of anger in him. Looking at Tim, she realized he was surprised as well. In three months, their partner had completely changed—for the worse.


Lauren had taken the dog and the baby for a walk, giving Leah sometime to clean the house without having Lincoln at her feet or Jack chasing after him. Her parents would probably scold her for scrubbing the kitchen and bathrooms, but Leah didn't care. She had never felt the need to hire a housekeeper, even now that she owned her own house.

She made her way upstairs to the master bedroom and found the suitcases. Leah put them on the king-sized bed and opened them. She started to empty the drawers of all their clothing, not putting a lot of thought into it, until a folded-up piece of white lined paper caught her attention. Confused, Leah picked it up and unfolded it, realizing that the note was addressed to her.

It was in Tony's handwriting. She would recognize his handwriting anywhere and she wondered if he had written her a letter—they had corresponded through letters the summer she had been in Cairo. Dear Leah, the letter began, I'm sorry.


Another body of someone else connected to the first case had appeared. This time Metro wasted no time calling NCIS in.

Tony felt vastly out of place riding in the car besides Gibbs as they drove to the crime scene. He felt constricted by the collar of his dress shirt, the fitted blazer against his body and the itchy dress pants and as they pulled up to a secluded area outside the city, he felt even more constricted. He just wasn't ready and yet he was left with very little choice.

Gibbs parked the car behind the NCIS truck and got out silently, popping the trunk to grab his gear. He noticed that Tony wasn't moving with any sense of urgency, and if he was honest, he was not surprised.

Tony clenched his sweaty palms. It wasn't like he had never done this before… he had made a living on investigating crime scenes and dead bodies. Slamming his eyes shut, he counted to ten, and then worked up the courage to get out of the car.

His gear was waiting by the wheel for him. Tony swallowed and slipped on the familiar windbreaker and hat, grabbed the backpack and proceeded towards the taped off area.

"Sir? I need to see your credentials," the officer standing guard said.

"What?" Tony asked, confused.

"Your identification. Only authorized personnel are allowed passed this tape."

"Sorry. I'm a little out of practice."

Tony found his ID and showed it to the officer, who barely looked at it he noticed, but let him underneath the tape anyways. Shoving the ID into his back pocket he noticed that the team was already working. They don't need me,he thought. What the hell am I doing here, sticking my neck out like this?

Tim looked over at him then, pale green eyes filled with concern. Tony felt as though he been stripped down to his very soul, as if Tim could see every little imperfection…

"Anthony!" Ducky greeted him, warmly. "It was starting to feel like this leave of absence was permanent."

"It would be if I had my way," Tony said, coldly. "Fortunately for you, and NCIS, my wife got her way."

Ducky glanced anxiously at Gibbs. The amount of venom in Tony's words was shocking. He had never heard the younger man use such a tone of voice when talking about Leah. "Surely Leah would never push you do something that you didn't want too. Doesn't seem in her nature."

Tony dropped his bag at his feet, his eyes focusing on the dead body of a former MP that had discovered the first victim back in the day. "Trust me, she has it in her."

Gibbs snapped his fingers. "Hey," he directed towards Ducky, "can you give me a time of death yet?"

The medical examiner found his liver probe and slid it into the body. He waited for the reading and then made his calculation. "I'd estimate that he died between eight and ten hours ago. Did anyone report him missing?"

"No," Tim reported. "His wife is out of town and his neighbor says he's goes camping all the time when she is."

"So, his absence was normal," Tony said, frustrated. "Doesn't get us any closer to finding Merchant."

"We've got almost everyone involved in that original case covered," Gibbs assured Tony. "We just have to be patient."

"Patient?" Tony yelled. "How many lives are going to be lost because we're being patient?"

Gibbs realized he had to diffuse the situation but he wasn't sure how. In the past he knew exactly how to calm Tony… but this new Tony, the one filled with so much anger at the world around him—Gibbs didn't have a clue. "DiNozzo, I know you want him caught quickly so you can… go back on leave… but I can't make promises…"

Tony frowned and grabbed his backpack. "I'm going to sketch," he mumbled, moving away from the group and physically putting the distance between himself and the team that he was emotionally feeling.

Ducky sighed when the senior field agent was out of earshot. "Leah was right. Anthony is clearly suffering clinical depression. I suppose after everything he has been through it was bound to happen. He needs professional help, Jethro."

"One problem at a time, Duck," Gibbs responded. "Leah's been trying to find someone; getting Tony there is another problem altogether."

"Mental illness can tear families to pieces," Ducky said, calmly. "Even if Tony gets through this on his own… it might be too late; Leah might take Jack and leave him."

"Legally she could even file an order of protection against Tony if she felt he was danger to her or Jack," Tim interjected.

Gibbs watched as Tony worked. From this distance it felt like nothing had changed but everything had. He knew the emotions that the senior field agent was going through all too well, and years later he often times wondered if his daughter had survived the car accident if he would have handled the loss of Shannon better. Watching Tony, who had a loving wife and a son, crumble… he concluded it might not have mattered. "Ducky, do you still have that number for Rachel Cranston?"

Ducky nodded. "Yes. She moved to California to take a job at UCLA. When we get back to NCIS I'll give her a call… perhaps she can come out here to observe Anthony."

He felt little relief but it was a push in the right direction. Gibbs waved the team off, telling them to get back to work, when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Pulling it out he saw Leah's number flash across his screen. Damn it, Tony, I told you to call her when we landed."We made it to D.C fine," he answered, expecting that to be why she was calling.

"I…I know that,"Leah stammered. "Tony called me while he was at baggage claim."

"What's wrong?" Gibbs asked, hearing the fear in her voice.

"My parents came down to help me clean the house,"Leah said, on the verge of tears, "I found… Gibbs I found a note addressed to me…"

"A note? I'm confused, Leah. Why are you calling me?"

"It was a suicide note, Gibbs—from Tony—he's… he's been thinking about killing himself."

Gibbs flashed back to sitting on that beach, holding his gun in front of him and wondering if he should eat it. His eyes traveled towards Tony, still sketching, and he felt sick to his stomach. Rachel couldn't get here fast enough and he was going to have to seriously consider pulling Tony from this case… "Listen, I know a doctor. I'm getting in touch with her… just, breathe, Leah…"

Leah was trying to take steady breaths, but it was clear she was panicked. "He's worse off than I thought. I just… I just don't know what to do anymore!"

He could relate to her pain. She was trying her best to keep her family together and the one she loved the most was unraveling before her very eyes. "I've got his six, Leah," Gibbs assured her before hanging up, "Promise."