Gibbs hung up his cell, after the voice mail picked up.

He sighed, "Never be unreachable…why now, Tony?"

He was tempted to drive over to Tony's apartment. He wasn't sure what the right approach was. He was very worried. He'd give Tony thirty minutes and call again. And if he didn't answer, Gibbs was going over there.

Some late morning light was seeping into the basement.

He looked at the dresser he had half way done. He'd come down to sand it, to try and get the image of vacant green eyes out of his mind.

Tony didn't speak to anyone on the flight, other than a yes or no to cocktail peanuts.

And he was also silent on the drive home.

When they pulled up to the house, Tony just walked in without a word, gathering his things, and went to call a cab before Gibbs stopped him.

"What are you doing?" he growled, hearing Tony call the service.

Tony looked at him, sheepishly, "Boss, we're both tired, but…I need to go home."

"I'll take you," Gibbs snapped, "Hang that up."

Tony closed the phone, and gave him a bare bones smile.

"Thanks Boss," he said softly.

Gibbs nodded, and they went back out to the car.

But he didn't start it up right away.

Tony knew what was coming, and seemed to tense up.

"You gonna' tell me what's going on?" Gibbs asked softly, looking at him, seeing the muscles in the profiled jaw clenching.

Tony sighed and suddenly sagged in the seat. He rubbed his eyes.

"No."

Gibbs felt a twist inside. Whatever this was, it had to be bad. He thought for surely when they were back, away from the others, Tony would drop the defenses a bit. They had been through so much together. Gibbs tried not to let his own feelings, or bruised ego, affect his thinking.

"I just wanna' help."

Tony's head fell back on the seat, as he looked up at the roof of the car.

"I know."

"Then, talk."

Tony jerked a little in the seat, turning towards him, "You can't just tell me to talk. Unless that's a new rule I need to know about." The words were biting, and tinged with exhaustion.

Gibbs nodded, and didn't say anything. He turned on the ignition and started the car.

Tony faced forward again, and sighed. He bit his lip for a moment.

As Gibbs drove, he could feel the turmoil emanating from his friend.

"I'm sorry," Tony said in a sad, low voice. "I'm…not taking all this well…was such a jackass to my Aunt today. She didn't deserve that. She doesn't know…"

"Know what?" Gibbs asked calmly, and glanced just once at him.

Tony appeared as if he was going to say something, and then changed his mind. He went with, "She doesn't know how my Dad really was, and what happened with Anselmo."

Gibbs nodded, waiting.

"And…I would never have shot McGee."

Gibbs snorted.

"But you knew that. Funny…McGee might have actually believed me…" Tony was hoping this would move them away from the questioning. "Aunt Theresa loved McGee."

Gibbs sighed.

They were silent until they pulled up to Tony's.

He noticed that the younger man wasn't meeting his eyes, as he hurriedly got out.

"Tony," he called before the door was about to close.

The younger man leaned his head down, looking at Gibbs.

"Yeah Boss?"

"We're off another two days…longer if you need. But I want you to call me…if you need me."

Tony looked a bit surprised the way Gibbs said it, and saw the sincerity in his blue eyes. He knew Gibbs wanted to help. But he wasn't sure anyone could help with this. He just needed to think.

"Thanks," he said softly, with a sincere look of gratitude.

Gibbs nodded, and he closed the door.

And though he had been beyond drained when he got home, he only slept a few hours. The subtle niggling of worry in his mind wouldn't let him rest. Senior's letter, the destruction of the urn, and the look in Tony's eyes. What did they mean?

He sighed again, getting angry.

He was about to call Tony again, when Tony beat him to it.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said with some relief.

"Hi Boss," Tony said in a normal enough tone.

"Called you a little while ago-"

"Yes, yes, I know, never be unreachable," Tony laughed a little, "but people have to shower sometimes."

"Uh-huh," Gibbs said, scowling.

There was a pause.

"Ah, look, Boss…I just need some time. I need to figure this out…before I can…tell you about it. I know you're trying to help…"

"Tony," he said as gently as he could, "keeping things in…secrets…hasn't worked out very well for you."

He heard the mirthless laugh on the other end of the line.

"Yeah…well, this…is…" he let out a shaky breath. "I can't. Gibbs, I'm sorry. I need some time off. I'm emailing a request to you and Vance..."

"How much time?"

Another pause.

"Three weeks."

Gibbs felt surprised. "That's quite a bit of time. I'll get someone to cover your desk. You sure you need that long?" He wasn't so concerned about the job right now, as he was about what Tony was going to do.

"Yeah…I think so. I need to go…home…to get some things settled with the will, and the estate…"

Gibbs shuddered at the idea of Tony, wandering around the rooms, remembering all the things that had happened when he lived there.

Gibbs sighed. "Okay. But…I'd like to come with you."

The pause on the other end was long this time.

"Tony?"

"I'm here. I just…" his voice sounded like it was breaking a little. Gibbs heard the deep intake of breath. "You're a good friend," his voice had gone thick with emotion, "better than I deserve. I really appreciate you offering like that, but I need to do this alone."

Better than he deserves? Thought Gibbs. What's that about? Weren't they past any of the old insecurities? Or maybe the funeral just sent the younger man back…

"Tony-"

"Three weeks. And if I need to I'll call. Okay?" the words were laced with desperation.

Gibbs swallowed back the bad feeling, the twisting pain that was traveling up from the middle of his body.

But he said, "Okay."

"Thanks Boss," the relief was clear. "I…I'm gonna' go."

"Tony."

"Yeah?"

"Keep your phone on."

"You got it,Boss," he said, and hung up.

Gibbs threw the phone down on the work table.

He frowned, and let his eyes run aimlessly over the tools on the wall.

"Three weeks, my ass," he grunted to himself. There was no way he was going to step back that long, with his gut screaming bloody murder at him.

Tony was just going to have to deal with Gibbs checking up on him.

He closed the phone, and put it down on his coffee table with a shaking hand.

He was relieved that Gibbs agreed to the time off.

He hoped three weeks would be enough to help him work it all out. To understand how Senior could…keep it from him.

Tony felt his breath hitch a little, as his hands clenched at his sides. He leaned back on his leather couch.

"Why…"he whispered to thin air. "Why would you do it? Makes no sense…"

He felt himself tearing up.

"No," he said out loud, suddenly scrubbing at his face. "No. Keep it together. Just move."

He forced himself up.

There was a lot to do. He needed to pack, and gather some things for the ride to Long Island. He needed to call Mr. Gardiner, and have some money transferred to himself from the offshore accounts.

"But that can wait," he said aloud, "until after."

He knew Gibbs thought he was coming back in three weeks. And…maybe he was. Wasn't he?

He tried to imagine walking off the elevator, like he'd done thousands of times, of walking into the bullpen, and sitting at his desk. His desk.

He gasped, and tried to push down the choking sob working it's way out of his throat.

Gibbs…the team…his team…they all meant so much to him…

But now he had trouble picturing himself feeling the same there…just like he had felt suffocated and confused around them all after reading the letter…

"You fucking bastard," he moaned, wishing Senior was still alive so he could scream at him. "Come on, Tony!" he groaned, trying to get himself to suck it up.

He needed to pull himself together already, since there was at least one thing he was sure of.

He was going home, to the sad joke, the grand comedy that had been growing up Anthony DiNozzo Junior.

He was going to face his awful childhood, walk through every room, touch the memories with his very fingertips, hoping that he could come away with something.

Hoping that he could come away…intact.

And on the way out of DC he was going to buy several containers to fill with gasoline.

So that after, he could set the demons and ghosts ablaze, and watch the whole lie burn down to the ground.