1. I know DiNozzo's age is not right in this. This is how old I want him, so this is how old he will be. Cannon breaker right here.

2. Very little happiness happens in this chapter. I know. Gibbs. I know.

3. So I'm pretty much laying here in bed going, "Hey, Hey Hobbes (Hobbes is what I call myself. It's a childhood thing. Calvin and Hobbes was my security blanket. I try not to read much into the fact that I identify with the imaginary friend. Don't make me think about it) Anyway. Laying here. Whispering. "Hobbes. If you think of something clever/funny to say for the author note you can go to bed." And I'm thinking. And thinking. And thinking. And then I look at the clock and see that it's 1 in the morning and I go "Nope, no humor for the internet buddies." So yeah. No humor for you. I'm calling it.

Goodnight!

Bright blue eyes stared at him. They were cold and harsh and unfamiliar.

"DiNozzo."

Tony swallowed tightly, his chest clenching.

Stress was not good for sick.

Neither was shock.

He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders.

"Good to see you Gibbs."

He nodded and said nothing. McGee was hovering somewhere over his left shoulder, his eyes darting between Gibbs and Tony like he didn't know who to settle on and be concerned about.

He stepped forward and drifted between the two men.

"Um… not that I'm...ecstatic… to see you, but what are you doing here Boss, um… Gibbs?"

Gibbs answered McGee but didn't take his eyes off of DiNozzo. "Finally got around to checking my e-mail. Wanted to see what was happening. If I had made the right decision."

Tony blinked and took a half step forward. "Gibbs, going away, it was the right thing to do, you needed-"

"That's not what I meant."

Tony raised his head. Oh. Oh.

All right then.

Tony screwed his mouth to the side and didn't meet McGee's gaping gaze.

"Gibbs, you don't-"

Gibbs pushed himself off of the desk and stepped up to DiNozzo.

"Elevator now."

"Gibbs-"

"Now."

Tony sucked in his cheeks. He didn't have to follow him. He wasn't his boss anymore. He wasn't the St. Bernard who hung on his heals.

He was perfectly capable of not doing as he was told.

He could stand and take his desk.

He could say no.

Tony nodded and turned towards the box, Gibbs' gaze burning into his shoulders.

He could walk away, but in the end Gibbs was his friend and he had hope.

Hope that maybe there was something in Gibbs that still believed he was a good agent.

A good man.

xxx

Tobias stepped into the headquarters and smiled. He was spending more time in the NCIS building than his own. A security officer rolled his eyes and waved him past.

Pacing up to the elevator he pressed the button but nothing lit up. His eyebrows drew together. Was the elevator actually broken this time? It hadn't been shut down since Gibbs left.

His stomach started to twist and he quickened towards the steps.

It was nothing he was sure.

But…

He walked faster.

Xxx

McGee paced back and forth in front of the sealed metal doors. He could hear voices, Gibbs' raising in misdirected anger and Tony's quiet retorts. Nothing was clearly audible, but the tone was unmistakeable.

Gibbs was angry.

And...off balance. There was something about him that didn't seem to sit quite right. He just couldn't place it.

He wondered if Tony could. Tony and Gibbs had always seemed like a brick wall to him. Something melded together. Gibbs was the brick obviously. Hard and strong and capable of inflicting great damage on his own. Tony though, Tony was the mortar. Flexible and able to fit into the hollowed spots. Fill the places that Gibbs left empty. They held tightly to each other together and became much stronger for it.

Tim leaned agains the wall and sighed. If Gibbs was the brick and Tony the mortar, what did that make him and Ziva? Where did they fit?

A nasty thought slithered through his mind. You don't.

He shook his head and turned away, disregarding that before it grew.

He may not be part of the wall but he was something. Tony involved him. In his own way. He pulled him along, treating him like a kid brother. Teasing, laughing, prodding. Keeping him close to the team.

Or rather, he used to.

McGee rubbed the back of his neck and let his eyes drop to the floor. When did Tony stop?

"Excuse me. Pardon. Sorry."

McGee glanced over his shoulder and saw Fornell maneuvering around a group of probies shuffling as a group down the hall.

"Agent Fornell?"

The older men met his eyes and slipped past the last of the stragglers.

"McGee, where's Tony?"

Silently he pointed to the elevator.

Tobias raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Okay, I'll bite. Why is Tony in the elevator? That's not his style for private conversation."

McGee stared forward, focused on his distorted reflection in the shiny metal.

"Gibbs wanted to talk."

The sharp intake of air was the only sign of Fornell's surprise. "Gibbs."

McGee nodded.

"Why?"

"He didn't say why, he just said get in the elevator."

Fornell pushed a hand over his head and turned so he faced the closed doors. "Do we know why he's here?"

He took a deep breath. "Because he thinks Tony isn't doing a good job. Because we asked him. Because he's bored. I don't know."

Tobias clenched his fists and his voice barked harshly at the agent. "Tony is doing a fine job. A wonderful job. Damned better than the lot of you."

McGee faced him, his face turning red. "I know."

Before Fornell could retort, the doors slid back open and Tony stepped out. His face was wiped clean of emotion and he didn't look back as he walked away. Tobias pushed off from where he was standing and walked next to him, keeping a close eye on the boy.

"DiNozzo you get your ass back here. We're not done." Gibbs shouted, standing in the doorway of the protesting elevator.

Tony's voice was even and the three other men could hear amusement threading through it though only Tobias could hear the desperate edge.

"Actually yes, we are. I have to get ready for my date."

"Your date? Is that what you've been doing since I left. Chasing hussies and slacking off? Have you done a damned thing for this team?"

Fornell froze where he stood. Tony's face twisted slightly, but only Tobias was in a position to see. He let out a breathy laugh and leaned his head back to stare up at the skylights.

"No Gibbs. Haven't done a single thing. I'll see you later. Nice mustache."

With that he shrugged on his jacket and walked around the men, pausing to nod at Fornell.

"Tony!" He called after him.

He swiveled on one foot, paying attention only to the FBI agent.

"Tobias?"

Their eyes locked with bitter understanding as he said quietly.

"Have a good time."

Tony nodded and disappeared down the hallway, leaving behind one very confused and guilty NCIS agent, a fuming Gibbs and Tobias.

The retired agent turned to Fornell.

"You got here fast."

Tobias looked at him dispassionately. "Excuse me?"

"Only a couple people knew I was back, how did you find out?"

Fornell snorted and shoved his past Gibbs, his shoulder knocking into him. "I'm not here for you."

"Then what the hell are you doing here? Working a case?"

He started up the stairs to the directors office but stopped to make eye contact with Gibbs.

"I'm here to take care of my boy."

Gibbs' mouth opened slightly and Tobias continued up the stairs.

Gibbs swung over to McGee and narrowed his eyes.

"You and Ziva neglected to mention that."

Tim continued to stare on to where Tony had left.

He wondered if Gibbs could hear the damnation in his words when he murmured, "We never noticed."

Xxx

"You cannot let him continue this."

Shepard glared at him and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"I fail to see how Agent DiNozzo's mission concerns you, or how you have even come to know about it as I told to Agent DiNozzo to express extreme discretion."

Tobias snorted and sidestepped the accusation directed to Tony. "You believe you're the only one with an eye on Benoit? FBI has been watching him for years, you don't think we'd notice when a random NCIS agent pops up?"

The director waved her hand. "It's no matter. He is staying in. He's gotten too close to leave now."

Tobias slapped his hands on the desk and leaned in. "Exactly, he's gotten too close. You're going to get him killed!"

The director met his gaze with cool eyes.

"If he dies Agent Fornell it will be from his own actions. Not mine."

Fornell smacked his hand on the desk again, making her picture frame shake.

"Are you hearing yourself?"

Director Shepherd rose from behind her desk. "I am the Director of NCIS. And you have no right to question my decisions or treat me with such disrespect. Now get out of my office before I have security escort you out."

Tobias shook his head. "If he leaves, you will regret it."

She smiled tightly. "Oh but Agent Fornell, where will he go?"

Tobias leaned away from the desk. "FBI."

She snorted. "FBI? No. His 'family' is here. He'd never leave."

Fornell shook his head and stalked over to the door, jerking it open. "His family is gone. Keep pushing him. See what happens."

Xxx

Tony buttoned the next to last button on his shirt with trembling hands. His fingers wavered and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

Oh he didn't feel well. Not at all.

Maybe he should have interrupted Ducky and asked him to check him out after all. He leaned forward and rested his head on the mirror.

He was so tired.

I left you here to lead this team and you're destroying it! Where the hell is Ziva? What do you mean you don't know?

He could feel his pulse beating above his ears, so loud. His head ached. And there was still so much left to do. Paperwork regarding the York case, finding the identity of the John Doe, and the piles of case reports from McGee and Ziva he still had to correct.

Jeanne.

The Frog.

It wasn't slowing down.

It never slowed down.

Is this how you run a team DiNozzo? They're supposed to count on you, you're supposed to take care of them.

He shook out two painkillers and dry swallowed them. The taste was bitter sliding roughly down his throat. He stared in the mirror with an apathetic gaze.

The circles under his eyes were purple. His hair was long, unruly, and covered a good portion of his forehead and brushing over the top of his dulled eyes. His skin was pale.

"What is Jeanne seeing in me? I look like an extra from the Dawn of the Dead."

He rubbed a hand over his chin and grimaced at the prickling skin. He needed a shave. His lips quirked slightly thinking about Gibbs' mustache. That was just unfortunate.

Damn it, DiNozzo, I knew I made a mistake the moment I got that first e-mail but maybe I made a mistake bringing you on this team to begin with.

The grin disappeared and he began to shave. He shaved slowly, concerned about nicking himself with shaking hands.

He was washing the remaining cream from his face when he heard his front door open. He paused and looked up. No voice called out from the other room.

And who had a spare key?

He opened his bathroom cabinet and pulled a pocket knife from the shelf. Sliding open the blade, he silently stepped from the bathroom.

His heart was pounding and his vision focused with the pulsing adrenaline. Someone was in his kitchen.

The refrigerator opened and then closed with a harsh snap and a figure straightened from studying its contents.

"Tobias?"

The man turned holding a moldy head of lettuce.

"You keep a knife in the bathroom?"

Tony dropped his arm and leaned against the counter.

"Rule 9. Always carry a knife."

"In the bathroom?"

Tony shrugged and pointed to the rotting vegetable. "Who's your date?"

Fornell dropped it in the trash with distaste. "The contents of your icebox."

"Icebox?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Don't start with me kid."

Tony grinned and turned back down the hallway. "Do you even know how old I am?"

Tobias followed him and leaned against the bathroom door as Tony tried to sort his hair.

"Not a damned clue. Younger than I am. Mid thirties?"

Tony grinned and managed to give himself a rakish hair air as he twisted back his tangled locks. "Pretty close. Just turned 33."

Tobias blinked twice. That was younger than he imagined. "How early did you become detective?"

Tony laughed and flipped out the light, dodging his friend and padding to living room. "Now that, Agent Fornell, is a story for another day. Speaking of stories, how the hell did you get in my apartment?"

Tobias patted his pocket and Tony could hear the jingling of keys. "Stole the spare from Gibbs' key chain when Scuito tackled him. Didn't think you'd mind." He pulled the keys from his pocket slid the key from the chain. Tobias offered it out in an open palm. "Would you like it back?"

Tony stared down at the key in his hand and shook his head slowly. "No. No you keep it. It's nice knowing someone can… go ahead and keep it. If you don't mind."

Fornell closed his fist around the key. "Gladly."

Tony smiled at him and sunk into his battered couch. Tobias dropped down next to him.

"Are you nervous?"

"About what?"

Tobias shrugged. "Benoit's in town this weekend. You have a date with his daughter tonight. You know those things are bound to cross."

Tony leaned back and gazed up at his cracked ceiling. "That's the hope."

Tobias nodded and supported his head on his hands. "Tell me something about yourself I don't know."

"What?"

"Anything. Something that no one knows about you."

"Why?"

Tobias shrugged. "Because I just found out you're 33. And honestly I don't know a whole lot about you."

"And that's probably why you keep hanging around. You haven't found out all my terrible habits."

Tobias smiled into his hands, still hiding his face from Tony. "Oh I know your bad habits. Those have never been a secret. And yet, somehow still here."

Tony grinned and let silence fall.

The wind was blowing outside, making the windows creak under the strain and branches scratch against the siding.

Fornell brought his head up and looked around the room. Books were scattered across the floor, mingling with DVD cases and old VHS boxes. Crushed pillows and worn blankets were draped on random bits on furniture, evidence of days where Tony had actually spent time in his home.

"Poetry."

Fornell looked over at him in confusion. "What?"

Tony tilted his head forward and stared out the window to gathering storm clouds. "I enjoy poetry. My mom used to read it to me instead of bedtime stories. I never stopped reading it after she...after I started to grow up. Was hard as hell hiding it from everyone once I hit college."

Tobias studied Tony with new appreciation. "I wouldn't have guessed."

He lifted one shoulder with quiet resignation. "Most people wouldn't."

Tobias was quiet again, pondering this information. The layers to this man. No wonder Gibbs had always been so insistent on his value. Absolutely nothing was surface deep.

"Do you have a favorite?"

"Excuse me?"

"A favorite poem."

Tony looked at him in confusion. "I suppose so. Or a favorite stanza at least."

"What is it?"

Tony stared for a beat of time. "Why?"

Tobias looked back at him and his face softened. Tony honestly didn't understand why someone would want to know this about him. "Because it matters."

An emotion he didn't recognize flickered in Tony's eyes as he replied, "Mary Oliver. The last paragraph of The Summer Day"

"Tell me." Tobias leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes, and listened to Tony's quiet but strong voice fill the room.

"I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?"