Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: However much I wish it was so, I do not own these characters. I'm going to simply let them play for a little bit and then put them back a little happier.

WARNING: Slash story - you have been informed!

ADDITIONAL WARNING: Again, the story has a little McGee/Ziva bashing, but not in this chapter. A few more romantic flashbacks with Gibbs and Tony, so no ignorant, outraged comments that I've offended your sensibilities.

I want to thank everyone who reviewed, made this a favorite or just looked at my story. Your words and encouragement are greatly appreciated. Now on with the show….

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Gibbs sat in his beach chair nursing a beer as he watched the waves roll in. Pieces of his scattered memories were chasing themselves around in his head. He had kept himself busy, and driven Mike nuts, with his zeal to fix any and everything wrong with Mike's beach hut. His home improvement crusade was a classic avoidance technique he had employed many times before. If he kept himself busy enough, and tired himself out, he wouldn't have to think. There was only so much you could do to a beach hut though and he was now left alone with his thoughts. Mike had taken off yesterday morning for the town and the Cantina mumbling about "crazy Marines with hammers" and the quiet had led him this morning to the beach. He couldn't stop the voices any longer, so he let them run free in his mind.

"Daddy, please don't go!"…. "Be careful Gunny, we want you home in one piece!" … "Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs, I'm sorry for your loss…"

Gibbs closed his eyes as he could almost feel his little girl's small hand when he pulled away from her to leave them that last time. She hadn't wanted to let go and it broke his heart to turn his back and walk away. Shannon had known how hard it was for him, but she was proud of her Marine and this was to be his last deployment. His grip on the long-necked bottle tightened as he again felt that stab in his chest when he thought of his girls.

"Hell, Gunny you know I can't tell you that! I want you to damn well promise that you won't look at this file while I go for coffee!"

Gibbs turned his face up to the sun as he remembered waiting in ambush for Hernandez for nearly three days. He now remembered how empty he felt after exacting his revenge. It hadn't made any difference. His girls were still gone and Gibbs couldn't help thinking now that Shannon would have been disappointed in him. He had been awash in grief and he wasn't thinking clearly. He also mused now that Franks had used his mental state to his advantage. NIS knew who Hernandez was and where he was, but they couldn't do anything about it legally. Mike had used him to make Hernandez pay and he had willingly gone along. He took another long pull from his beer and thought that he would probably do the same thing if he had it to do over. It may not have brought his girls back, but he felt better knowing Hernandez was not walking around in the world. He wondered how many other families were spared his grief because Hernandez was no longer breathing.

"You think you can work for me Gunny? I can be known as a bastard." … "Probie! Get your ass in gear and start bagging and tagging!" … "Aw, the Hell with this, I'm done!" … "I guess you'll do Probie."

Gibbs remembered when Franks had quit over an incident very similar to the one that drove him out and handed him the team. Both Vance and Shepherd were ambitious and had not stayed long. Vance had moved on to his own team lead position in Rota and the director had offered a posting for him and Shepherd in Paris for some black ops undercover work. Having just divorced Diane, he jumped at the chance to get away from some very sour memories.

"Jethro! Aren't you ever coming to bed?" … "Jethro! Are you still in the basement?" … "Jethro! Are you still working on that stupid boat?" … "Jethro! You have to choose between me and your dead wife!"

That one was a no-brainer! Gibbs shuddered as he took another swig of beer. Thank God he had gotten away from Diane! Ah, well it had been a good idea at the time. He thought again on his time in Paris and all that had transpired there.

"Why, Agent Gibbs is that a smile I see?" … "Jethro - don't stop!" … "I never knew you could talk this much!" … "Decker says they're on the move!" … "Yes, confirmed kill."

Gibbs thought back to the Dear Jethro letter Jenny had given him when she had left him behind in France. He had thought they had a strong connection, but apparently it was just sex to her. He was a stepping stone on her way up the ladder. Since she was now the Director of NCIS, he guessed she finally made it. Who knows, maybe she was gunning for the SecNav job, he wouldn't be surprised. He did credit that letter for his quick marriage to Tessa and even quicker divorce. They both realized it had been a mistake not long after they had gotten hitched.

"You've been married TWICE before me?!" … "You had a child!?" … "Jethro, I don't think this is going to work out."

Gibbs sighed deeply as he recalled his short, five month marriage to Tessa. She was a nice woman, but they had both been looking for something different. At least she hadn't tried to change the part of his hair with a golf club like Stephanie had.

"You Son of a BITCH! You promised me we were going out to dinner!" … "You are NOT going to spend all your time in this basement Jethro!" … "I swear to God Jethro I will BURN every last trace of any woman in this house other than me!" … "How can you blame me? You never paid me any attention! All you care about is your dead family and that Goddamn boat!"

Yeah, Stephanie had been a huge mistake. Gibbs thought ruefully as he rubbed the scar on his scalp. She had actually been surprised when he had thrown her out after catching her cheating in their own bed. The very same bed he had burned in the backyard later that night. They had done well while he had been posted in Moscow. They traveled all over Europe that first year. Coming home to DC had been a big letdown for her. She quickly found out the debonair jetsetter she had thought she married was really a blue jeans from Sears homebody who really didn't talk very much. Especially about his feelings. It wasn't all her fault though. Maybe he was trying to be someone else too and they had deceived each other. The fact that she had wanted a child and he had refused also contributed to their downfall. The memory of Kelly had still been too fresh.

As he watched the clouds scuttle across the sky and gather at the horizon with low rumbles far out to sea, Gibbs thought back to some of the people he had first run into when he came back to NCIS. He discovered Ducky was the new ME's assistant in the basement. He had first worked with him in Paris with Jenny and knew there was far more to the Scotsman then there appeared to be. He had been their team's personal, off-the-books physician during their Paris missions and Gibbs wondered why he had switched to ME. Mulling that over in his mind, Gibbs could not remember if he knew or had ever known why he had switched over. He could not recall ever asking, but that was typical, he was not one for words. He did remember when Dr. Magnus had retired and Ducky had taken over, he had at least congratulated him.

"Jethro! To what do I owe the pleasure? I don't believe you have an open case."

"Just wanted to congratulate you, Duck. At least these patients don't talk back!"

"Why thank you my dear boy, but you'd be surprised what they do say!"

"I'll take your word for it Duck."

Gibbs smirked at the memory. He and Duck were perfect opposites. As stingy as he was with words, Duck could talk the spots off a leopard. Gibbs started a bit in his chair as memories and the emotions behind them started to slot themselves into their places in his brain. He remembered cases, bodies, agents and crime scenes. It was like watching a montage of images on a screen. He remembered Abby and how she had hugged her way into his heart.

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!" … "Jeez! Quit sneaking up on me!" … "Ooo! Caf-Pow! Gimme, gimme, gimme!" … "Thank you sir!" … "Don't call me Sir Abs!" … "Thank you ma'am!"

Gibbs was stunned at the depth of emotion he felt as these memories swept by him. He was surprised he had let them get so close after losing his girls, but he was also surprised at the amount of guilt he felt at not sharing his girls with them. For years he kept them as a precious secret known only to him, but he knew that in recent years he had shared them with someone. A someone with dancing green eyes, an infectious laugh and a kind, loyal heart. A heart, that he knew, was not easily given away.

"Freeze Dirtbag!" … "NCIS, you're a Navy Cop?" … "Wow, the orange walls are a bit much." … "Yes, Boss!" … "On your six, Boss!" … "Hey, Boss could you take a sniff?"… "Oh, Jethro…"

This last memory sent a jolt of desire down his spine.

Tony.

Oh, God Tony. How could he have ever forgotten him?

When he had left, he had a vague outline of his team in his mind. Enough to know that Tony was a great SFA and he would take care of the team.

He was so much more than that, though, wasn't he?

Memories of sweet kisses, the feel of strong muscles moving under or over him, the sound of soft cries and moans and knowing he was the source of that pleasure, that he was the one able to coax that reaction out of that beautiful man. He also remembered the emotion and passion behind those images. He knew that what he felt for Tony was akin to his feelings for Shannon and as scary as that was, he also knew how right that felt.

Tony had gotten inside those walls he had put up after his girls died.

He now remembered that there was no one he trusted more in the world than Tony. He also trusted Tony with his girls too.

He was the first person he had voluntarily shared their memory with since they had died. His ex's had all found out by accident and none of them were happy with the information. Tony didn't want to compete with their memory. He embraced them and knew there was room in Jethro's heart for himself and them too. He encouraged Jethro to talk about them and let them out of his self-imposed guardianship of their memory. The more he talked about them with Tony, he discovered, the better he felt. Sharing them allowed the hurt and pain to bleed away and he found he could think about them with a smile instead of the sharp spike of pain he used to get. Even now, just remembering that and thinking about them did not cause the pain it had an hour ago.

Tony had helped him heal.

He was never jealous of them.

Jethro knew that if he could trade places to bring them back, Tony would do so. That selflessness made Jethro love him all the more and bonded them even closer. They were a perfect pair. Tony's outgoing nature balanced Jethro's introvert nicely. Tony understood his silences and embraced them. Jethro understood Tony's chatter and found it comforting. Tony always knew when to keep quiet and when to let his chatty Cathy out. They could read each other's minds with a look. He had never worked with a better partner and he remembered Tony telling him he had never trusted anyone to have his back as he did Jethro.

As memories of kisses, snuggling in front of the fire, Tony cooking, showers, yard work, car repairs and painting washed over him, so did a growing feeling of dread. He had left his contact info with Ziva, the first person on his team he remembered, and Tony had not once contacted him. Then he remembered what he had done at the house before he left and it felt like someone had punched him.

"What have I done?" he whispered to himself.

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Flashback:

He walked into his house after Ducky dropped him off and slammed the door shut.

Damn those bureaucratic assholes!

He threw the paperwork from the hospital on the coffee table as he slumped down on the couch. He was unbelievably aggravated at just about everything. When he had first woken up at the hospital and found out it was 15 years later, he had hoped a little administrative evolution would have occurred. The one constant, however, is shortsighted, self-serving bureaucrats. He looked around his house noting several changes since he remembered living here with his girls.

His girls.

God he missed them. The pain was nearly unbearable.

He looked around noting the large TV, bookcase full of what looked like movies and felt rage at all the changes that had occurred. How could he have gone on and enjoyed his life after losing his girls?

He stood up and pulled handfuls of the movies from the bookcase and scattered them over the floor. He picked more up and threw them at the wall behind the couch. He stalked into the kitchen and noticed a newfangled machine that had cappuccino written on the side. He picked it up, ripping the cord from the wall and smashed it on the floor and stomping on the pieces. He saw food on the top of the fridge he couldn't believe he now ate and swept it all to the floor, also stomping on it when it fell.

His rage propelled him upstairs and into his bedroom. He was appalled to find his closets and drawers filled with designer, expensive clothes. He could not believe he had pampered himself in this way! How much had he changed? He tore all these clothes out of the closet and dumped them in a pile on the floor. He pulled drawers out and dumped their contents on this pile. He then went into the master bath and found more items to enrage himself. Colognes, aftershaves, hair gels (hair gels?!) and shampoos that probably cost at least a weeks pay every month. He took them all and dumped them into the trash.

He was breathing heavily after he finished that and he leaned on the sink to look at his reflection in the mirror. He saw an old, foolish man looking back at him.

How could he have changed so much?

He had a horrible thought and flew out of the bathroom and down the hall to stand in front of a closed door. He clutched the door handle and pressed his forehead against the cool surface.

"Please, please not this too." He quietly pled before opening the door.

He breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing Kelly's room unchanged. He walked into the room and sat on the yellow bedspread. It actually looked like he had been maintaining this room, There was no dust present and the bedding looked freshly laundered. He felt himself calming down sitting in his little girl's room. Maybe there was hope for him after all. His personal life makeover was not complete. He sat for about 10 minutes just breathing in the memories of Kelly in her room. He saw her playing with her dolls and her cars on the floor over by the window. He saw Shannon sitting at the desk as she put finishing touches on Kelly's Strawberry Shortcake costume on the last Halloween he had been home. He saw himself sitting in the same place he now sat as he read his girl a bedtime story. He remembered countless nights spent just watching their girl sleep tucked in with her favorite stuffed animals.

He took a deep breath and stood. Taking one last look around the room he walked out and quietly closed the door behind him. He had made up his mind. He had to get back to the way he had been before all these "life changes". He went back to his bedroom and dug out one of his old duffle bags from the bottom of the closet. He was a little confused at all the size 13 shoes in there when he knew he wore a size 12, but he put it down to his muddled brain. He was able to find some jeans, shorts and tee shirts that were more to his taste and he threw them all into the duffle. He went back downstairs and cleaned all the food up off the floor and threw it in the trash. He looked around at all the other items scattered on the floor and told himself he couldn't deal with it right now.

He shut off the lights after he had called a cab to take him to the airport and locked the door behind him. He never looked back at the house as he got in the cab and left to make a flight to Mexico and forget this new life he had tried to fit into.

End Flashback

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Gibbs leaned forward in his chair and put his head into his hands.

"Oh, God, what have I done?" he asked himself again.

I am an old fool! he thought. I tore up my life with Tony before running out on him! My God, what must he have thought finding the house like that and me gone! I broke his Christmas gift! I ruined his movies and his clothes! No wonder he hadn't heard anything from him. He must think I hate him. Gibbs sat up as waves of guilt consumed him. He found himself fighting back stinging tears. They had opened their lives to one another and Gibbs knew the hell that had been Tony's childhood and what a fear of abandonment he had. Tony had healed him of his own pain and given his heart to Jethro, who then turned around and stomped it into the ground. He wondered if it could be fixed. He stood up abruptly and almost ran back to Mike's hut. He called a cab and then quickly packed what he had brought with him in his duffle. He left a hasty note for Mike telling him he had gone home and ran out when he heard the cab driver sound his horn.

He sat musing in the back of the dusty cab as they made their way to the airport.

Home.

He hoped he still had a home back in DC, because without Tony, there was nothing.

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TBC