As soon as Tony got home, he set his bag down and dropped the keys on the table beside the door. He immediately went to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a vintage-inspired whisky glass and a bottle of Canadian whisky. He poured a glass and capped the bottle, set it down, and then lifted the glass to his lips. He barely tasted the whisky on his lips before the familiarity of the act stopped him. He lowered the glass and glanced over at the bottle. It was about one-fourth full. He stared at the bottle for a moment and then at his glass, the light in the room was reflecting off the diamond-pattern and shining brightly in the lamp light.

It seemed to mock him. When had he drank all that? Hadn't he just bought the bottle a few weeks ago?

He set the glass down, and walked over to the end table where he kept his bills and receipts in the drawer. It only took him a few seconds to find the receipt. When he looked at the date, he gasped. He just bought that bottle six days ago. Not even a full week. Why did it feel like so much longer? Was he losing time?

He thought for a moment, and realized that every night for the last week he'd come home and immediately poured a large drink. There was way more than a shot in his glass. Tony swallowed hard and licked his lips, tasting the hint of whisky on them.

Tony closed his eyes. He knew exactly when this had started. It started the day his boiler blew and he found out quite cruelly that the people he thought were his team, and his friends, really didn't care about him at all. Each and every one of them had said no before he could even finish asking or even could ask if he could stay. No one had asked him why he needed a place to stay and no one had listened long enough to find out it was only for a night or two. He knew his insurance company would pay for an extended-stay hotel while his condo was out of commission.

Ducky, who he thought he had a good relationship with, made it clear that he didn't even want Tony to know where he lived.

Abby, who he'd thought was his friend, not only said no, she dismissed him outright as if he had dared suggest they have sex.

Kate had trusted Suzanne McNeil more than she trusted him and that 'nice lady' ended up nearly killing them all.

Even Gibbs, who was the only one who knew why he needed someplace to go, had said no. He relented later, but by then it was too little, too late. The damage was done. Tony ended up not going to bed until very late at a crappy motel. At that point, Tony just wanted to be alone to nurse his wounds in private.

Staying in that extended-stay motel was awful. It was the most impersonal place to stay, for all it tried to be 'homey' looking. Tony missed his condo. He never used to feel lonely, even when he was at his apartment alone because he thought he had a good team, good friends he could count on. Finding out he didn't was a sucker punch to the gut. He'd thought about leaving then, and now he wondered why he hadn't.

Kate's right. I'm an idiot, he thought.

He should've known after what happened in Baltimore, after he found out Danny was crooked, that he couldn't count on coworkers to be true friends. Never mind that for the first year and a half, before Kate joined the team, it had felt like he had a true friend in Gibbs. Now, Gibbs had turned on him, too. Maybe not the same way as Danny had, as far as he knew, but ever since Gibbs had recruited Kate, things had changed. He missed the camaraderie they used to have. Sure, they used to argue sometimes when they each thought the other had their heads up their asses but it wasn't like they argued daily.

Now, it all seemed a distant, broken memory.

Yep, time to go…the sooner, the better.

Tony stalked back over to the liquor cabinet, grabbed his half-full glass and the bottle of whisky and headed to the sink dumping them both down the drain. He then repeated it for every bottle in the cabinet, including the bourbon he'd kept on hand on the off-chance Gibbs might stop by. As he looked at the bottle, he realized it was still mostly full. It'd been a long time since Gibbs had been over. Tony huffed a breath before taking it to the sink and dumping that, too. He vowed to never touch a drop again. He would not end up like his parents…not if he could help it and he would start right now.