AN: This is it, the final chapter. Thank you to everyone that has read and reviewed along the way. I really appreciate it and I hope you enjoy the grand finale.

Tony was sitting in silence, which was strange for him, but he'd been doing it more often than not lately. Usually, he had some kind of sound on in the background. Most of the time it was a movie, sometimes music, but always something. Right now, though, he was on his couch just resisting the urge to grab a bottle of bourbon. Tomorrow was his last day of vacation and he was going into NCIS. He needed to be sober for that conversation.

A knock on the door pulled Tony out of his thoughts. He considered not answering for a second, but quickly realized he'd have to face people tomorrow anyway. He was surprised the person only knocked once. Knowing the options for who could be standing on the other side of the door, he expected more insistence. His confusion cleared up as soon as he swung open the door and found Ellie Bishop standing on the other side.

Now, there's something he didn't see coming.

He had grown fond of Ellie, liked her a lot, actually. She was brilliant and kind and just strange enough to fit in perfectly with their little team. But for as much as he liked Ellie, he didn't expect her to show up at his apartment. Their relationship was still growing, the bond still forming. And judging by the nervous look on her face, she had to talk herself into coming to see him at all.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

Tony gestured her through the day doorway and she offered a small smile, dropping her bag on the hardwood floor as she entered. He watched as her eyes took in his apartment, the simple decor, the neatness. Tony was sure she was surprised as everyone else was the first time they saw where he lived.

"I'd offer you something to eat, Bishop, but I just got back from Europe so all I have is water," Tony said. "And maybe some crackers."

"You don't have to feed me," Bishop said, turning. "I came here to talk to you."

Tony raised his eyebrows, gesturing toward the couch and then walking over to take a seat.

"Your apartment is nice."

"Thank you," Tony said, offering her a small smile. "That what you came here to talk to me about?"

"No," Bishop's eyes drifted to her hands. "Gibbs would kill me if he knew I was here, you know."

"Well, I'm certainly not going to tell him," Tony leaned back, eyes wandering toward the liquor cabinet. "What's on your mind?"

"You."

Tony bit back the joking, innuendo-filled response he would've given her on any other occasion. He wasn't in the mood. Besides, she looked too serious.

"What about me?" he asked.

She paused for a long moment, "We miss you, you know."

Tony let out a shaky laugh, "McGee not good enough company for you, Bishop?"

"That's not what I mean." she said, her lips twitching. He could tell she was still nervous.

"What is it that you mean, then?"

Ellie took a deep breath, seemingly gathering all of her courage, before she turned her body toward Tony and looked him in the eye, "Look, I know you've been through a lot. I know this has to do with more than just Adam."

Tony couldn't help but flinch at the mention of Adam's name, but he didn't speak. He just let Bishop continue.

"I haven't been doing this for very long, Tony. I'm still learning. More often than not, I'm a step behind. But I want to be like you guys," she stopped, forcing him to look at her with a gentle touch of his hand. "I want to be like you."

Tony scoffed, "You'd be better of emulating Gibbs."

"No," the force of her statement caught Tony's attention. "You take the time to teach me, Tony. Gibbs just expects me to pick it up as we go along and I get that, I do, but you … You talk to me. It's you I want to learn from," he opened his mouth but she cut him off. "And that's not the only reason. I see the way you do things, the way you handle yourself. That's the kind of investigator I want to be."

"Bishop—"

"Just let me get this out," she interrupted. "I don't know what you're going through. And if you want to walk away, I'm not here to stop you. But you're good, Tony. You are good at this. What you do is important. It's important to me and a lot of other people," her voice grew softer. "You've still got work to do."

After she finished, the only sound for awhile was the gentle hum of Tony's empty refrigerator.

Tony held eye contact with her for a long moment before he reached over, planting a kiss on the top of her head, "Thanks, kid."

She smiled, looked at him for a moment longer and then got to her feet, scooping her bag off the floor on her way toward the door. She stopped right before leaving, "Will I see you tomorrow?"

He stood up from the couch, turning to face her, "One way or the other."

She nodded, once, before walking out and closing the door behind her.

He stared at the door for a long time after he left, trying to ignore the burning in his eyes. He couldn't deny it meant a lot of him, that she took the time to come to his apartment, that she risked his temper, that she said the things she did. Tony knew she would be just fine without him. She was well on her way already, and she had Gibbs and McGee, but something in her words struck a chord with him that he couldn't shake.

You've still got work to do.

He let out a breath, running his a hand over his eyes to clear them, before heading back to the couch. He made himself ignore the liquor cabinet, even though all he wanted was a drink, something to take the edge off. He felt like that was all he was made of now: Edges.

He glanced at the clock, taking note of how many hours he had left before he had to walk into Vance's office with a decision. And he still didn't fucking know. He didn't know. He felt sick just thinking about getting into the NCIS elevator, of seeing the squad room, of walking up the steps. Gibbs was right about him, he didn't trust himself. His confidence was shaken to his core.

Tony used to have so much faith in his abilities as an investigator. But he'd been worn down over the years, beaten and broken and left for dead. He just didn't know if he had it in him to pick himself up off the mat one more time. When it came to being a cop, failure had never been in his vocabulary before. He walked into every situation confident he'd be able to figure a way out, whether that meant catching a killer or stopping a terrorist or saving a kid. Now, he was plagued by doubt.

There is nobody else that can do what you do. Nobody else. The team needs you, Tony. I depend on you. You read those case files. You're telling me you love it. You are still in there somewhere.

Gibbs seemed sure — and Tony was never one to doubt Gibbs' instincts — but Tony didn't know if he really was still in there somewhere. But then he thought back to those files, how he couldn't help himself, how when he was reading them he was able to forget how Adam's case had crushed him. He'd just been focused on getting answers. For a little while, for just those few hours, he felt like him again.

He wondered, briefly, about how he would feel if something happened to one of his teammates and he wasn't there. He thought back years, to the kid he convinced to go back to Princeton, and wondered where he would be. He actively forced himself to remember the good. The kid in Baltimore that he did save. Bringing Ziva home from Somalia. The boy with a bomb strapped to his chest that Tony refused to kill. There was good in this job. There was good, but there was also heartache. There was devastation.

You made a difference to me.

Tony sighed, forcing himself off the couch and toward his bedroom. He would sleep on it, wake up in the morning with a clear mind, and decide. As he walked into the bedroom, he reversed his earlier thoughts, not considering how it would feel to walk back into NCIS, but instead trying to imagine never entering the building again.

It didn't make him sick.

It didn't hurt.

He couldn't imagine it at all.

It was a beautiful morning, clear blue skies and the still crisp air of early summer. Tony woke up before his alarm and didn't even bother to trying to fall back to sleep. He showered, made coffee, grabbed breakfast from the cafe on the corner. And he didn't think. He read the paper during breakfast to keep his mind off of the impending decision. He listened to talk radio in the car so other people's words would feel his brain instead. He had given up trying to make his choice.

Gibbs told him he trusted Tony's instincts. And if he was going to come back, he'd have to trust them, too. So that's how he was going to decide. He was going to get into that elevator, step in that squad room, and trust himself to make the right choice.

And if that failed, he would flip a coin.

He pulled into his parking spot at NCIS and turned off the car, leaning back in his seat for a moment and just looking at the building in front of him. Before NCIS, he never spent more than two years with a job. But NCIS wasn't just a job. He learned that quickly. Meeting Gibbs. Meeting Abby. Kate, McGee, Ziva, Bishop. Ducky and Palmer, even Vance. These people weren't just co-workers. They filled a long existing void in Tony's life. NCIS gave him a family, wormed it's way into his bloodstream, formed his identity.

He was sure he could find a way to move on without it. He just didn't know how. He would have to find another career, and that seemed impossible. He wondered, briefly what Ziva was doing with her life, how she had wiped the slate clean and walked away. There was a difference between Ziva and him, though. She'd never had a choice. She'd been forced into this life, into Mossad. He smiled a little. She wanted to be a ballerina.

But Tony. Tony wanted this. Sure, there were dreams of playing professional basketball that were dashed by injuries. But there was always a part of him that wanted to do something more, that wanted a career that would make a difference. After that fire in Baltimore, he couldn't imagine doing anything else. He wanted to be a cop. He chose it.

He sighed, grabbing his bag out of the front seat and climbing out of the car. Now or never. Moment of truth.

Tony expected to feel nerves as he walked into the lobby and flashed his badge. He expected his hands to shake as he pressed the elevator button. And when the doors opened, revealing the familiar orange of the squad room and his team just settling in for the morning, he expected the nausea that had come whenever he thought about this moment.

But none of that came.

Instead, he just felt calm.

He stopped for a moment after walking out of the elevator to let that feeling sink in, because he hadn't felt it since Adam pulled the trigger. Tony felt like he had just stepped off a roller coaster and back onto solid ground, like everything was suddenly firm and real and safe again. He closed his eyes, taking a breath, waiting for the sensation to fade.

It didn't.

With a small nod of his head, he slipped off his sunglasses and started toward his bullpen. He could feel his team's eyes on him as he approached and he turned his head, catching Gibbs' stare. They held eye contact for a long moment, Gibbs asking a silent question and Tony holding back on the answer.

Finally, Tony gave the slightest smile, barely there, one that probably went unnoticed by Bishop and McGee. But Gibbs caught it. He always caught it. The team leader nodded his head, one side of his mouth lifting up, before he sat down and started working on a report. No words needed.

Tony tossed his bag on the floor of his desk and turned to McGee, "Listen, McThief, if one thing is gone from my desk, I'm coming after you first."

He didn't say anything else, just turned and headed up the stairs to Vance's office, leaving a shocked, but smiling McGee in his wake.

"Agent DiNozzo," Vance glanced up as Tony walked into his office. "I've been expecting you. Have a seat."

"Director Vance," Tony greeted as he slid into a chair.

Vance looked at him for a moment, "It's good to see you. How was Europe?"

Tony thought about that, not really knowing the answer. He finally settled on, "Far away."

Vance seemed to understand, because he just nodded, "Far enough that you're ready to come back now?"

Tony paused, leaning forward a bit in his seat, "If you'll have me."

Vance smiled and Tony took note of it, because he knew how rare that was, "We are very lucky to have you," Vance paused, holding up a finger. "I have something for you. Didn't want to give it to you until you came back."

"How did you know I was going to come back?"

"I didn't," Vance slid an envelope across his desk. "But I hoped you would. Now get to work, DiNozzo. I'm sure you're team is very anxious to see you."

"Director Vance, about the night I left—"

Vance held up a hand, "Consider it forgotten."

Tony nodded once, a silent thank you, and then picked the letter up the desk and headed for the door. He walked to the elevator, waiting until the doors closed and then flicking the emergency switch. Then he slid down along the wall and then turned his attention to the envelope in his hand that had 'Agent DiNozzo' written across the front in neat cursive.

He had an idea of what the envelope contained before he even opened it, but that didn't stop the lump from forming in his throat as he read Erica Mitchell's words. She thanked him, for his effort in trying to save her son. She told him she'd never seen Adam open up to anyone else that way except for his father. John was back at home now, she wrote, and she told him about Tony, about how hard he'd tried, about how close he'd been. John hoped to meet him someday, to shake his hand.

Tony read the letter twice and then folded it up and tucked it back into the envelope. He didn't even try to force back to the tears that leaked out, just wiped them away with the sleeve of his shirt. He was grateful to Vance for not giving him the letter before he decided to come back. Handling it now was difficult enough. Reading it then would've broken him. Tony gave himself a few more moments to pull himself together before he climbed back to his feet, hitting the button that would return him to the squad room.

As soon as he stepped off, he had an armful of Abby. She hit him out of nowhere and he staggered back, unprepared for the weight that barreled into him. But he quickly recovered, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her off her feet for a moment.

He kissed her cheek, "Hey, Abs."

"Are you back?" she asked after he set her down. "Like really, really back not going anywhere ever again back?"

"Well," Tony smiled, pulling on one of her pigtails. "I will probably have to go home at some point."

She broke into a grin, reaching out to hug him again, "i missed you, Tony. I was so worried about you."

"I know," he said, turning to walk back toward the team with her arm looped through his. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize it's a—"

Tony stopped, turning to look at her, "Just this once."

Her smile faded for a moment. Serious Abby wasn't something he was used to.

"No apology necessary," she said, reaching down to squeeze his hand. "I'm just glad you're okay."

He nodded, "I'm getting there."

They walked together back to the bullpen, where Ducky and Palmer had joined the rest. Gibbs and McGee had spread the word quickly. Gibbs reached out as he approached, giving Tony a firm handshake and a long, hard stare. He was making sure Tony was okay. And the truth was, Tony wasn't sure that he was. Not completely. But he would be. Eventually.

There were plenty of greetings to go around. Handshakes for McGee and Palmer and Ducky. A hug for Bishop, and another whispered thank you in her ear. He knew he still had a big conversation ahead of him, that he'd have to call Zoe and explain himself, finally tell her everything that had happened in the past two months. This moment, though, belonged to his team. And he needed it.

He turned to McGee, "Hope you're ready to take a step down on the seniority ladder again."

He meant it as a joke, something to lighten the mood, but McGee's smile faded. He gave Tony a long look, "Happy to."

A ringing phone interrupted the reunion and Tony half paid attention to Gibbs' conversation, knowing there was a case coming. The nerves he'd been expecting all morning came back then, a certain anxiety that was never there before. But he knew, even then, he made the right call. It might take awhile to settle back in, but this was exactly where he needed to settle.

Everyone else was smiling. And Tony had to admit, there was a part of him that felt what they felt, that everything was back exactly the way it was supposed to be. He didn't regret taking time off. He needed the space. He needed to wander and clear his head.

He needed to remember where he belonged.

Gibbs closed his cellphone, glanced at Tony, "Grab your gear. Got a dead sailor in Norfolk."

End.