Ducky stormed in through his friend's front door that evening and arrived at his basement steps within seconds. Gibbs barely acknowledged his presence as he tarried down the steps.

"If you came here to quit, you'll have to wait in line." Gibbs spouted, taking down some of the bourbon in his hand.

"Quite the opposite I'm afraid."

"Opposite? So…you came to join me?"

"In a sense. I have come to escort you to Timothy's residence; followed by Ziva's."

Gibbs shook his head and smiled. "Not gonna happen."

Ducky was keeping himself relatively calm and took a few steps towards his friend. "Abigail has been calling me incessantly for hours…" He noticed Gibbs phone sitting n a cup of liquid and sighed. "I'd imagine that has something to do with it."

"Look Duck, I'm not in the mood for a lecture. They quit because they wanted to. And I don't beg!" He pointed to himself before taking down more of his drink.

"Did you ever think it may not call for that? That perhaps a simple line of reasoning would suffice? A simple, don't go. Or heaven forbid, an I need you."

Gibbs scoffed. "They're not kids Ducky…they're more than capable of making their own decisions."

"Well then, it's obvious who the kid is here, isn't it?"

"You implying something?"

Ducky threw his hands up as if to mock him. "Oh certainly not. I was being quite literal."

"So I'm the child, because I won't ask them back? I'm not the one who ran away Duck!"

"Au contraire, you've been running away since Anthony…you've been torturing McGee for his mistake to no end…taking out your misplaced guilt and blame on everyone else. They simply reached their limit. And I don't blame them."

"Sure, blame me. I didn't ask McGee to fall asleep during that damn stake out did I?"

Ducky sighed. "Jethro…you must let it go. Anthony is gone."

With that, Gibbs swiftly threw his glass across the hull of his boat; and listened to it shatter. "Thanks for coming by Duck. You can see yourself out…"

The ME nodded; and slowly but surely made his way up the steps; stopping at the top with a final request. "Do phone Abigail when you find a moment; she is quite distraught."

Gibbs acted as if he disregarded it; and listened for the sound of his front door closing before pouring himself another drink…it wasn't long after he finished it; that he reached for his land line and dialed her number…

"How are you holding up?" Ziva asked through the phone; simultaneously sharpening her kitchen knives…it always helped relax her.

Timothy McGee was sitting at his type writer; no worse for wear it seemed. "I'm actually…okay…just trying to write some, take my mind of things."

"What are you writing about?"

"Detective McGregor finding a clue that could lead to Agent Tommy's where abouts…saving the day and all that."

Ziva tried to smile as she set her knives down. "Aw McGee, do you think that is healthy?"

"It's helped me get through the last month Ziva. Thinking he's still alive is all that's kept me going."

"False hope can be destructive McGee."

Tim slid his chair away from the type writer; tore out the sheet of paper and slipped it through the shredder. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It's just fiction anyhow…I'm no hero, that's for sure."

Ziva resisted the urge to slam a knife down into her counter top. "McGee! I will not stand for talk like that. You must find a way to stop blaming yourself. Believing he is alive will only prolong your grief. Perhaps grieving will help you move on."

"Has it helped you move on?"

She let her eyes gaze to the photo of her and Tony on the refrigerator and lied. "It has. You must step up to the dish, and not let this tragedy define your future."

"Plate."

"Hmm?"

"Never mind." He took to pacing around his apartment. "I guess I have to force myself to accept it. I think I'm the only one who hasn't."

She lied once more; a meaningful attempt that she hoped would help her friend. "Tony was aware of the risks when he took on the mission. We all know the risks and we take them every day. Fate is fate Tim."

"Yeah, but I stay awake and he's alive and well Ziva. I can't shake the sight of seeing him gunned down…it's there every time I close my eyes. It's there every time Gibbs tries to look at me but cant…"

"Well you no longer have to deal with that. You have a fresh start."

Tim started to clean up a bit as the conversation continued. "I still can't help but think it's the coward way out you know…running away from the problem; instead of fixing it."

"There is no fixing with Gibbs…the only thing…the only person capable of solving this is no longer with us. We made the right choice. You must trust that."

"Trust…like Tony trusted me." He mumbled under his breath, and hoped Ziva hadn't heard him. He was wrong.

"McGee, if you hadn't been dragged out of your bed in the middle of the night; don't you think things would've gone differently?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Then perhaps placing some of the blame elsewhere would be wise."

"I can't blame the Director; she was just doing her job."

Ziva sighed. "As was Tony. If you keep blaming yourself; you will end up like him."

Tim swallowed hard at the intensity of her suggestion. "I know."

"Good. Now get some sleep. I have my phone by me; if you need to call."

McGee managed a small smile. "Thanks Ziva…"

"Love you too Abs…okay good night." He set his phone back down; and was eased slightly by the sound of her voice. But it wasn't long before the uneasiness returned.

"Evening Jethro." Jen appeared at the top of the steps and made her way down.

He glanced at his watch. "More like good morning Jen, it's 2 am."

"I would've called but…" She pointed to his immersed cell phone. "Plus, your home phones been busy for an hour, figured you had it off the hook."

"I was on the phone with Abby." He reached for a broom and started to sweep up the shattered glass from his last visitor. "See this glass…this was the result of the last visitor I had, and I'd rather not waste any more of my good drinking glasses."

"Relax Jethro, I'm not here to talk business."

Gibbs sent her a trying smile. "Can you fall back in love with me tomorrow? I'm really kinda tired. Been a rough day…"

"You've had rougher."

He scratched his head, as if mocking her. "Is that so? Would that be when the assassin you insisted was innocent shot my Agent in the head right next to me? Or maybe when my CO told me Kell—"He stopped himself and continued to sweet up the remnants of his glass without another word.

"I came as a friend Jethro. You looked like you could use one."

"If I were you I'd run while you still can; any friend of mine either ends up dead or hating me…"

"You do have quite an effect on people."

"Should I be flattered?"

She shook her head. "You should use that gift to bring them back. They exhibited loyalty to you like I've never seen."

"That's over now."

"Who says?"

"They did…" He threw his arms out as if throwing a fit.

"They are not to blame Jethro…"

He interrupted by pointing directly at her. "You're right Jen…you are."

It was then you could hear a pin drop; and the tension grew to new heights.

"How dare you…"

He continued to point emphatically with each statement. "You put my Agents out there that night…You elected not to tell me…You are to blame…just took me till now to realize it."

"You…"

He interrupted her again. "You come here to ease your guilt? You stopping by is no more about me than it ever was. You're here so you can feel better about your mistake. Well sorry to break it to you Jen; but I'm not gonna grant you absolution." He turned towards his boat, and began to work as if she wasn't there.

She swallowed hard and stared at his back for a few moments before responding. "Good night Jethro."

She made her way up the stairs and left without another word. Gibbs once again listened for the door to close; before pouring himself his final drink of the evening. As he worked on his boat he had only one thought racing through his mind…

Tomorrow.