Gibbs stepped inside, finally able to breathe easily again. He tossed his keys onto the table, shed his coat, and dropped it over its hook. Behind him, the door closed. Gibbs thought, now that they had finally reached somewhere more familiar, Tony might break.
He'd been worryingly silent the whole ride home, hands gripping the wheel tightly. It didn't seem to be easing here either though. Gibbs glanced back at Tony.
Tony had his back pressed hard into Gibbs' door, halfway to a full retreat. His hands were shoved into his pockets, eyes on the floor. Gibbs felt the familiar sharpness of guilt, and it annoyed him. He scrubbed a hand over his face.
"Damn it, Tony," he breathed out.
You can't think I blame you
Tony's head jerked up at once.
"Sorry, Boss," he said.
Gibbs started to turn to him, sighed instead.
"In," Gibbs said. "Food in the kitchen."
He only felt half-sure that Tony would follow, that he would obey. Gibbs walked into the living room anyway. He lowered himself down onto his couch and waited.
Tony finally appeared. He gave Gibbs no more than a glance, and took the widest path he could into the kitchen. Gibbs watched him, said nothing. Tony searched the cabinets, stooped to shift condiments inside the refrigerator. When he withdrew, he shot Gibbs a look that Gibbs couldn't quite read-or refused to-and yanked his phone from his pocket. Tony pressed it to his ear, and disappeared around the corner.
Right, he hadn't actually made it to the store before the op.
Gibbs couldn't make out the words from here, really felt much too tired to bother trying. Smart money said food, pizza if he knew Tony. So he waited, with eyes half closed, until Tony reappeared on his own.
"Okay?" Gibbs asked, as Tony walked over. He threw his weight down into Gibbs' chair, stared somewhere beyond the wall his eyes were trained on.
Tony didn't seem to hear him. His leg bounced up and down, fist clenched on top of it. Gibbs took in a long breath, bit back frustration. He opened his mouth, closed it again, digging for something far more helpful than harmful.
"Talk to me, DiNozzo," he said, scooting to the edge of the couch.
Tony's leg stopped.
He knew what Tony needed to hear, knew that he needed to be the one to say it.
"You know you did good, Tony."
Tony studied him, leaned forward.
Wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it
"I know," Tony said, after a moment. His mouth formed a smile, small and a little sad. "Thought you and Kate-"
"I know, " Gibbs agreed. "You still came through."
A knock saved him. Tony rose at once, moved around the corner. Gibbs settled in to listen to another conversation, a smile pulling at his lips. He didn't say proud, but he sure as hell hoped Tony heard it anyway. Tony slipped back into view holding a large cardboard box. The smell of pizza reached Gibbs' nose. His stomach growled and Tony flashed a warm (and welcome) smile.
Depositing the box in front of him, Tony turned away again.
"Get some rest, Gibbs," Tony said, heading for the door.
Gibbs flipped the box open, grabbed a slice. He glanced at Tony's back.
"Tony," he said, sliding the box down the table, closer to the chair. "Sit."
Tony returned to the chair, keys shoved back into his pocket. He leaned forward, grabbed a slice. Gibbs waited, hoped, and then Tony started talking. Gibbs nodded, ate, listened.
He refused to think about how much he missed Kate.
Kate
She'd been hopeful, more than a little nervous, when the knock on the door had interrupted her movie. Both of those feelings had quickly been swallowed up by confusion when she found Tony standing there.
In his arms he held two large paper bags that appeared to be filled with groceries. Grinning at her over the top of them, Tony threw her a wink. Kate tried to speed up the process of coming to terms with finding him on her doorstep-struggled to get her mouth functioning again.
"Tony."
It came out more of a groan than a word, but he didn't seem to take offense. Kate stepped aside, let him inside against her better judgment.
Tony stood still, only his eyes roaming the room. He was, likely, waiting for her to say something. Or take the food. Or both.
"Nice place. Very you, "Tony said, glancing back at her.
She opened her mouth to ask, before she thought better of it. Kate didn't want to be upset with Tony tonight. She didn't have energy to burn, and she didn't want to tear him down while he was trying so hard. Instead she stayed silent, pointed to the kitchen. Tony nodded, shifted the bags, and led the way to the other room.
He settled them out on the counter.
"Thanks," she said, reaching up into the closest bag.
Tony shrugged, started emptying the second one.
"Really, Tony."
"You're welcome, Kate," Tony said, stacking the cans. He looked at her. "Gibbs wanted me to check on you."
"Could have done it himself," Kate said, shoving a can into the cabinet a little harder than strictly necessary.
"Easy there, Kate," Tony said, handing the next one over. "Not the cans fault."
He didn't seem willing to argue against her words though.
"You can tell him that I'm fine," Kate said, turning to Tony.
Tony threw his arms up, palms facing her.
"Ohhh, I'm not getting in the middle of this," Tony said, taking a step back. "Already told him that."
Kate gritted her teeth, and turned to the freezer. She pulled out a carton of ice cream, one of the few things that she had leftover.
"Want some?" Kate asked.
Tony grinned, leaned against the counter. He crossed his arms over his chest.
"Never thought I'd see the day," he said, looking proud of himself.
Kate rolled her eyes, scooped out a generous helping into each bowl. She glanced at him. He met her eye, smile still locked into place, but he couldn't hide how tired he looked. It was easy to forget, all caught up in her own feelings, that he had been a victim too. He'd lost sleep and sanity to bring them home. And he'd done it, unstoppable and...sort of amazing.
"Just take the bowl, Tony,' Kate said, smiling over at him.
His grin never faltered as he wrapped his hands around the bowl. She moved past him, returning to the living room. Kate dropped back onto the couch. She expected Tony to join her, to make himself at home-to be Tony. Instead, he remained standing feet away, eyes on the screen.
His fingers found the spoon, and he scooped ice cream into his mouth. He'd never looked so young, so innocent. He'd never looked so much like he might need her to protect him, and still, she felt so much safer with him here. She trusted him with her life anyway, if nothing else. For today, she didn't care about the rest.
"Sit down, Tony," she said. "Seen this one?"
Tony slid over the arm of the couch, settled down on his end. She played the movie, listened to Tony tell her every fact he knew about it. And then about at least a dozen other movies. She wondered if maybe he knew how much she needed the words. They forced out thoughts of Gibbs, smoothed out the leftover fear from the kidnapping.
For the first time, since she'd been home, Kate found herself able to relax. Too much, she realized, when she felt a blanket slip over her.
The TV had been turned off, the lights dim in her apartment.
"Really glad you're alive, Kate," Tony whispered.
She heard him walk away, heard the door lock-he had a key too?!- but Kate let herself fall back asleep.