"Probie! I need you to do a favor me," Tony said as he entered the bullpen, making a beeline for McGee.

McGee looked exasperated, "No, Tony, I'm not going to hack into-

Interrupting his refusal quickly, Tony responded, "No, it's not anything like that. I need you to do a search for me."

"Okay…what for?" McGee stared at Tony, eyebrow raised.

Showing him an image of a small mouthed man with medium length brown hair, Tony responded, "It's important. I need you to run a search for him on any and all sources you can. If you get a hit, call me. And try and keep it on the down low."

"Why? What's so important-

"Just do it. Please, McGee," Tony softened, looking at McGee.

McGee was sporting a look Sammy used to get every time he was about to do something he didn't like. "Fine. But I expect some answers later."

"Thanks," Tony said, before going over to his desk and grabbing a few odds and ends from the drawers.

"Where are you going?" McGee asked.

"Got a few things I have to do. Call me when you get a hit."

Tony left the bullpen, almost knocking into the director.

"DiNozzo, aren't you supposed to be on leave?"

"Yeah, I'm on my out now; just had a few things to take care of."

Jenny looked on as Tony took his leave, forgoing the elevator for the speed of the stairs.

Exiting the building, Tony walked down two blocks before getting into the front passenger seat of a gleaming black '67 Chevy Impala.

"Well?" Sam asked as he pulled the Impala away from the curb.

"McGee's on it. If the Trickster so much as gets caught by a camera, we'll know."

"Are you sure you want to do this? I can handle the Trickster by myself."

"I'm sure. Dean's my brother too. I want to be right there with you when we make that SOB bring him back."

Hard eyes met Tony's. "There's no telling how long this will take. Are you willing to give up your life as 'Agent DiNozzo' for this?"

Jaw clenching, Tony stared back just as hard, willing Sam to see his resolve. "Yes."

"Good," Sam said, eyes returning to the road.

It has been three months. Three months of blood, violence, and disappointment. They've had four hit and misses with the Trickster, and it was starting to wear on them.

Oh, and Tony was officially on the FBI's Most Wanted List due to a hunt gone south in Alabama. Fanfuckingtastic.

The thought of failing isn't an option that Tony can allow himself to think about. Because failing means that Tony ruined his life; he'll never get closure with the people at NCIS he came to think of as family; never tell them that he isn't this bad guy, because telling them about the things that go bump in the night would be much crueler.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Sam said as he poured lighter fluid over their discarded phones.

"Save it. As soon as we find the Trickster, none of this will matter." Tony dropped the disposable lighter on the pile.

When Sam got the call from Bobby, Tony had been dead for a month.

"You know why I'm doing this? Because you're not Bobby," Sam whispered, shoving the wooden spike through 'Bobby's' heart.

"Whoa. They always say that Dean is the twisted one, but you, Sam, take the cake. You take your remaining brother on a wild goose chase looking for me and get him killed, and then you are willing to risk killing your father figure just to get to little old me. I don't know if I should be flattered or…"

"Please. Please, just, take me back to that Tuesday."

"Why should I? There's been a lesson in all of this, Sam. How you and Dean are always trying to save each other's bacon? Dean's your weakness."

"Please. Just, bring him back."

"Oh, spare me the water works!" the Trickster responded, before a twinkle appeared in his brown eyes and he snapped his fingers.

Tony suddenly awoke with a massive headache. Squeezing his eyes shut, he brought a hand up to try an ease the pain from his temples. Images, more like memories, were flying by at warp speed.

He was dead. Or, rather, he had been dead. Feeling his chest where his heart had been ripped from, Tony was reassured to feel warm muscle.

Calendar. He needed a calendar. If he was alive again, that meant that Sam succeeded. And if Sam succeeded…Dean. Calling Dean would come first.

The phone rang five times before it was picked up.

The voice was bright and happy. "Tony! What's up? Dude, the station I'm listening to doesn't have Asia. It sucks!"

Tony laughed. And kept laughing.

"Dude, you alright? I mean, first Sam, now you…"

Regaining his composure, Tony responded, "I'm fine. More than fine. It's just…really good to hear your voice."

They talked for ten minutes before Dean threw the phone at Sam.

"Do you remember?" was the first thing out of Sam's mouth.

"Yeah," Tony said softly.

"I'm sorry. I should've—

"It doesn't matter. As far as I'm concerned, we can call it the "Six Months That Never Was.""

"Okay."

"We should probably get someone to go take care of those hunts we went on though."

"Yeah, I'll take care of it. You know…it was good working with you. If you ever want to get back in the game, we're here."

"Thanks Sam. But…my home is here at NCIS."

"I get that. I'll talk to you again soon, okay? We have to get going."

"Yeah. No problem."

When the phone call ended, Tony was happy to get up for work.

Standard Disclaimer(s) Apply

Notes: Well, this was my tag to Mystery Spot. I hope you liked it, and hopefully I had everybody in character. This took me forever to write.

As always, I want to say thank you to everyone who reviewed/alerted/favorited. It always brings a smile to my face.