16
He wasn't honestly sure what he would have done if Tony had said yes.
Thank God he hadn't.
Not that what he had said was any easier to hear, but it didn't matter. He owed it to him to listen.
Be paying this debt for a long time to come, Jethro. If you're allowed to.
Never leave a man behind? Made a hash of that, hadn't he? Didn't matter if you got the body out, if you left the mind trapped God knows where.
He'd let him down in style.
Ducky had been right all along. He'd been way too busy beating himself up over what he'd done, and completely forgotten to notice what he was doing.
So wrapped up in his own guilt that he didn't stop to use his brains. Self-indulgent time-wasting, the lot of it. He'd thought he had plenty to feel guilty about. He didn't have a clue.
He could have stopped this. Realised it was all bravado and pushed him to deal with it then and there. Should have understood it had to be him. Because all he'd had to do was pull his head out of his ass and think, and he'd have known.
Who else would DiNozzo have looked to, really? Without any family worth the name?
Not Kate or McGee. Tony didn't know either of them well enough to show his hand yet. However close they might be, they weren't close in that way. And all Kate's teasing over the Voss case would stop him like nothing else. He'd never willingly hand her this. Not so soon.
As for McGee, no way was he going to step up into DiNozzo's personal space and start pushing buttons. He'd faint on the spot.
He'd assumed Abby would pick up. But it had always been in his own nature to protect her whenever he could, and Tony had stepped straight into those footsteps almost as soon as he arrived – however much she'd tear them apart if she ever caught them doing it. And then something had happened. He didn't know what, because she didn't understand, and Tony clammed right up with no more than a bereft look of regret whenever it was mentioned.
And it couldn't be Ducky, because he had his hands full stopping an overly self-absorbed marine from bringing everything down round his ears. Because Ducky had had to make a choice between the two of them, and he'd bulled his way in and demanded attention, while Tony had slinked away to lick his wounds. Because Ducky had known what was driving him, but could only guess at what was driving Tony. Because Ducky had known him through a lot of ups and downs, and Tony had been there less than three years.
No, it had had to be him. Tony listened to him. Couldn't run him in circles the way he did everyone else. Had known it before he hired him. Known if he brought the younger man into NCIS, then he'd be his responsibility. Had looked that idea in the eye, and decided it was fine with him.
Liked it, to be honest.
And now they'd ended up here. With Tony adrift in a sea of anger, hurt and fear, and him watching and listening and not allowed to help, because he'd burnt that bridge with his own hands before he even looked at the other side.
Every word of this hurt. Every word should. Because the worst comment was the one Tony hadn't made.
You shouldn't have had to be told.
Ducky would be relieved to hear he'd stopped with the self-punishment. No point in it. Nothing he could do to himself could be worse than this. Looking on as the kid tore himself down from the inside, piece by piece. And all because the people who should have been standing between him and his demons had shirked their responsibility.
Tony was right – he was just like his father. And not in a good way.
He'd already taken his eye off the ball once and turned something horrible into a full blown catastrophe. Ignored what he didn't want to deal with, confident everyone would work it out around him. He'd not do it again.
Three years. He'd thought the foundations were solid. Never considered that Tony might not agree. Three years, and his friend felt he couldn't talk to him. To anyone.
Friend? Really? Could you claim that when the other party didn't know?
Prevarication, Jethro. None of this was Tony's fault. He'd told no more than the truth – when that op went to hell, he'd needed reassurance, and got a slap in the face instead. Found himself surrounded by colleagues, when he needed family. Needed them to be the family, because he didn't have his own to turn to.
As boss, he knew his agent. Knew he could cope with a messy situation. Had done so before. And he'd been right. Didn't have any complaints about the work.
He'd forgotten about Tony. Didn't see the man for the job.
First go round, he'd put his own needs first. This time was different. He had to focus on getting the other man anchored right now. His own failings later. An easy decision to make once he took the time to see it.
Because he just kept coming back to the same point. Ducky's point. Morrow's point. Tony was his responsibility, pure and simple. He knew what the kid needed, regardless of the fact that neither of them had ever acknowledged it.
He would have been proud to call the man son. And he should have said so when it still might have made a difference. It was too late now.
You really are just like him, aren't you?
But he refused to believe that this had gone too far for him to put at least some of the damage right. Despite everything, when he'd asked Tony straight out if he wanted him to leave, he'd not taken him up on it.
That had to count for something.
He'd make it count for something.
***
"You know what's ironic about all this?"
Solemn eyes looked back at him.
"If anybody else had done this, I'd have spent the last three weeks making them wish they'd never been born."
Hadn't expected to be met with confusion. It took a moment, but then he saw what was coming, and found himself wondering if this night could be the definition of death by a thousand cuts. Each new glimpse of this other side of Tony stung.
"Why?"
He bit off his first instinctive answer, and the sarcasm it was coated in. "Because nobody has the right to make you feel like this. And if someone had done, I'd be making damn sure they learnt that you do not mess with my people."
"Only you get to do that."
He'd asked for that. "No. You've made it very clear that I don't get to do that. And you're right."
There was silence for a while, and he listened to the wheels turning, and considered what he'd missed. Insecure – yeah, got that. But he'd thought it was a job thing - a hangover from Baltimore PD. The way he could be so cocky in the field, but still look for confirmation after the fact.
He'd thought Tony would get over it, in time. Strike that. Thought he had gotten over it, by and large. Knew he still looked to him for that reassurance a bit too often, but was trying to wean him out of that habit.
And that went a ways to explaining why he'd said what he did, didn't it?
He hadn't got that it was hard-wired into who the man was – and undoubtedly who the boy had been. He'd just thought it was a case of getting back on the horse again. Not that Tony was learning to read his boss's impatience and hide his own uncertainty in response.
This changed things.
"I thought you meant it." The comment that broke into his musing was quiet, and expressionless, and he knew this was something that mattered. Whatever it was.
"I know."
"No. Not that."
What else had he said? He couldn't remember anything that bad. Which was nothing to go by. "Go on. What else did I do?"
No excuse. He was frustrated and angry at his own short-sightedness, and for all his earlier pep talk, he let it show. Only heard the growl and the snap in the words after he was done, and knew it was a misstep straightaway. He couldn't afford to let his moods or his temper in here. Had seen enough tonight to know they'd be taken personally for reasons that weren't entirely to do with him.
Didn't need, or want, the sudden tension, or the drop of the head that proved he was right.
After a short, uncomfortable gap in conversation, where he held his breath, and Tony visibly deflated, the eyes came back, vulnerable and nervous, and oh yes, something here mattered. "No. Not you. It was me. I should have known… I shouldn't have… I never should have let myself think you meant it. It wasn't your fault. You weren't to know."
The personality changes were like lightning. Not so long ago, Tony had been spitting in his face with righteous anger. Now he was offering him off that hook. Absorbing the blame. Placating him…
Oh Christ.
Now look what you did.
Start listening, damn it.
"Tony?" Just a look, mulish and mistrustful. "Tell me what I said."
He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. I should have known better."
"You mind if I judge that for myself?" The contact had melted away, leaving the younger man staring downwards, picking away at the knee of his jeans. He deliberately kept his tone easy, and light. "Tony?"
"What you said before." No more than a whisper, aimed at the same knee.
There was something very young about the voice, and the posture, and he had to work to remember he was speaking to an adult and not a child.
Not easy, when Agent DiNozzo might be one of the best they had, but Tony was always a big kid. He'd never grow up. At least not if he had a say. The first childhood had gone to hell. Why not enjoy a second?
Off the point. What he said before? Before what? Before when?
Before he let him down. When it still counted.
Tony, as far as I'm concerned, you're irreplaceable.
And that was something, wasn't it? No wonder DiNozzo had gone volcanic when he said it again earlier. He was beginning to see just how things had gotten this bad this fast.
Briefly, he wondered if he a justifiable homicide defence would fly if he ever met certain members of the younger man's family.
Maybe he should leave that until he calmed down a bit.
Ten years might do it.
Irrelevant, Jethro. You said it, then you negated it. Offered him what he needed with one hand, and pulled it straight out again with the other. He wasn't being a brat. He was looking for something solid to hold on to. And you let him get a glimpse and then took it away again. No wonder he hates you.
Why wouldn't he choose to go it alone instead of coming back for more?
You idiot.
"I meant it. I just didn't want to say it."
No reaction at all. Hell, but this was a mess.
"Look at me." Nothing. "DiNozzo! When, exactly, did you decide it would be a good idea to start disobeying orders?"
That brought him back round, as he'd known it would. Maybe he should take up tightrope walking for light relief, if both of them survived this conversation intact. Kid looked somewhere between terrified and ashamed, and he was very glad he had a lot of practice at being the bad guy.
"I meant it."
He didn't believe a word. There had to be something.
"If you had been dead, I would have quit. Ask Ducky."
"I don't…" he never finished the thought, but Gibbs could pick it up easily anyway.
"I know you don't. Maybe if I'd been man enough to admit it without you having to push, you would."
No place for your hang ups, here. Find a way through. Make him hear you.
"But-"
"No. No buts. I was worried sick about you. Full stop."
"You can't-"
"Have I ever lied to you? No – don't just tell me what you think I want to hear. Think about it."
To his credit, Tony did, eyeing him briefly from under his eyelashes before going back to the knee.
Not that it mattered. He might be listening, might even be thinking, but he wasn't getting it. Needed to hit past the brain, and get a grip on the emotions driving it.
"No."
Good. Glad we've established that. Hold that thought front and centre, kid.
"Well I'm not starting now."
Just gonna play dirty instead.