"Yeah, okay. I'm on my way," Gibbs said into his phone as he jogged up the stairs toward the guest room. The door was wide open and Tony was watching something on his DVD player before glancing over at his boss. "Got a case, so I've gotta run out," he told him. "Don't know when I'll be back. You okay by yourself for a while?"
"Yeah, Boss. I'll be fine."
"Call if you need anything. I mean that, Tony," he narrowed his eyes, concerned about having to leave at all.
"Will do," Tony replied. "Be careful out there."
Gibbs smirked at the noted concern in his agent's face. "Don't worry about me," he replied. Then as he turned, "I'm lockin' the door on my way out. Oh," he poked his head back in the door, "There's plenty of food in the fridge. Try an' eat somethin' at some point?"
"I'll do that now, Boss," Tony said as he set his player on the bed and pushed up from the mattress. The two of them made their way downstairs; Gibbs heading toward the front door and Tony headed toward the kitchen. "See ya later, Boss!" he yelled as the front door closed behind Gibbs.
He went to the fridge and shifted through several containers until finding one that had some sandwiches and pulled that one out and placed it on the counter. He could hear Gibbs' car start and listened as it pulled away and drove into the distance. Suddenly, and without known reason, Tony felt overwhelmed. With what, he couldn't pinpoint; but his stomach began to turn and his breathing became short and labored.
He leaned with his hands on the edge of the counter, closing his eyes as he tried to regain composure and tried to understand what, exactly, was happening. Consciously, he began to control his breathing, slowing it back down to normal before opening his eyes again. Remembering his word, he picked up the container of sandwiches and sat down at the table.
But he still felt it, somewhere in the back of his mind, the feeling that something was wrong. He tried to force himself to push it away; ignore it, so that he could go on with his day...
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"Estimated time of death is between 36 and 48 hours," Doctor Mallard told Gibbs as they stood over the deceased body of female Petty Officer Terri Reginald. "I assume, before getting her back to my morgue for a more thorough examination, that she was killed by the obvious gunshot wound to the head at point-blank range."
"No sign of struggle," McGee added as he took photographs. "Which means she probably knew the killer."
"Maybe," Gibbs said as Ziva came back into the house from talking to the woman who'd discovered the body.
"Ms. Taylor claims that Petty Officer Reginald came home two days ago with her boyfriend, Raymond Adler," Ziva reported. "He did not stay long according to Taylor. He left in a red 89 Porshe, heading west. Taylor gave me a description, so when we get back, perhaps we can do a search."
"I haven't noticed any pictures around the house," McGee said as he did another quick search. "Other than of the Petty Officer, of course. So they must not have been that close. Was Taylor certain they were together?"
"She said they regularly went out dressed up for late-night activities," Ziva told him. "Specifically ballroom dancing classes, apparently." Gibbs shot her a look. "Before you ask, yes, I did ask whether or not she was aware of where they were attending classes. But she was not sure."
"Miss Mona's," they turned toward Tim's voice, with questioning looks. He bent down and picked up a small paper from the coffee table. "Receipt for it, right here. We drove past it on our way here."
Gibbs nodded, "Let's finish up here, then you and Ziva go over to Miss Mona's and see if they can give you a name."
"Mr. Palmer, let's get the Petty Officer ready to go, shall we?" Ducky said as Gibbs headed out of the house. Just then, the doctor's cell phone began to ring, which seemed to surprise him a great deal. "Excuse me a moment, Jimmy," he said as he stood and removed a glove so he could fetch the phone from his pocket. Looking at the caller ID, he narrowed his eyes and made his way out of the house before answering. "Anthony, is everything alright?"
"Hey, Ducky," Tony's voice sounded on the other line, slightly distressed. "Sorry to bug you, but I didn't wanna interrupt Gibbs if he was in the middle of something..."
"What seems to be the matter? Are you in pain?" Ducky spotted Gibbs who was heading toward his car, and started after him.
"Not really... I dunno what's goin' on, Duck. I feel like I can't breathe. I keep trying to calm myself down, but these thoughts pop up in my head and... Ducky, is Gibbs okay?"
"Yes, Jethro is just fine, Anthony. Do you want to talk with him?"
"N- no, that's okay. I don't wanna distract him. Forget I called, okay?"
"Tony, now listen to me," Ducky said as he slowed his pace, catching Gibbs' eye in the distance. "You may be experiencing an anxiety attack. Just try and lie down and take some deep breaths. But if you should begin to feel any pain, I want you to let me know straight away."
"Okay," his voice cracked.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks, Ducky," the call ended, and Ducky looked up as Gibbs approached his with curious concern written on his face.
"Everything okay, Duck?" Gibbs asked, concerned for his friend who seemed slightly taken back by the phone call.
"That was Anthony," Ducky told him, and Gibbs' concern shot up all the more.
"What's wrong? Why didn't he call me?"
"He didn't want to disturb you, and he insists that he's fine."
"Is he sick?"
"He says he's not in any pain, but he seemed a bit distressed. He needed to know that you were okay."
Gibbs took a breath as he contemplated the situation. "Tell McGee to call me if they locate Adler," he said as he turned to get into his car...
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It was a thirty-minute drive which unfortunately took just that long, even though Gibbs had tried his best to get there faster. He rushed up to the house, slowed down only by the fact that he'd needed to unlock the door. Stepping inside, he first cast his eyes over the living room, then into the kitchen, noticing the container of sandwiches; one mostly eaten left on a plate that sat beside it. But Tony was no where to be seen.
He considered calling out, but on the off-chance Tony might have fallen asleep, he voted against it. So he headed upstairs, ducking into the guest room. Not seeing the agent, he turned to head back out, but stopped when he heard a soft sound coming from the bathroom. He quickly made his way toward the door, gently pushing it open to find Tony sitting with his back against the tub and his arms holding his knees tightly against his chest; his forehead rested against his kneecaps as he silently wept. He rocked back and forth almost imperceptibly.
"Tony..." Gibbs knelt down beside him and his agent's head shot up immediately.
"Boss?" Gibbs hadn't expected it, but Tony shifted from where he sat and threw his arms around him, hugging him tightly. He could only respond by hugging him in return. "I'm so sorry," he cried.
"It's okay, Tony. Don't be sorry," he stroked the back of his agent's head in effort to comfort him through whatever seemed to have him so distraught. "What happened?"
"I dunno... Soon as you left, I started feelin' like...maybe you weren't comin' back..."
"You've been like this all morning?"
"N- no..." he sniffed. "Tried to eat...tried to calm myself down, but it just kept getting worse. I ended up in here...felt like...felt like I was back in that box again, Boss..." his hands clenched into fists-full of Gibbs' suit coat.
"You shoulda called me," Gibbs told him, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw as he fought to steady the shaking man in his arms. "Come on. Let's get you outta here," he moved to stand, pulling Tony up with him. Gibbs lead him into the bedroom as they separated, and Tony ducked his head, hiding his face from him.
"I'm sorry," he told him in barely a whisper. "You had to leave work because I can't handle being alone..."
"Hey," Gibbs turned to face him again and crooked a finger under Tony's chin, forcing him to look at him. "This is the first we've been separated since bein' back. I'd be lyin' if I said I hadn't felt a bit unhinged, myself. And you didn't ask me to come home. I needed to be sure you were okay."
Tony swallowed and blinked as his eyes darted about between them. "What do I do, Boss? I can't keep expecting you to run back here every time I start freakin' out for no reason."
"You're gonna be fine, Tony."
Tony ducked his head again, shaking it as he frowned, "I don't feel like I'm gonna be fine," his voice cracked. "Not when you're not here..."
"Because I pulled you outta that box," he reminded him. Tony met his eyes again. Gibbs put his hands on Tony's shoulders, "You're not goin' back there, Tony." He could feel the shiver that ran through Tony's body as his eyes became downcast. Gibbs' hand moved up to the side of Tony's face, and Tony flinched, reaching out to grab the front of his boss's shirt. The simple act caused something to break inside of Gibbs; the memory of Tony being nearly unresponsive when he pulled him from that box the last time...the thought that he'd become lost within himself after everything that had happened...
He remembered how his heart sank as he held him in that cell, wondering if his senior agent would be lost to them... Gibbs pulled Tony back into an embrace as he felt tears begin to sting his own eyes. "It's gonna be okay," he told him, and perhaps himself as well...
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Ziva and McGee stood, weapons drawn and aimed at one Raymond Adler. When they'd entered the dance studio, he had been arguing with another man and all but confessing to having killed the Petty Officer. The man he'd been arguing with obviously worked at the studio, and was now huddled on one side of the room with a female co-worker. Adler's gun was aimed on them.
"Lower your weapon, Adler," McGee told him. "You don't wanna do anything stupid."
"It's too late for that," Adler replied, flatly.
"It is not too late to stop this from ending very badly for you," Ziva said.
"It's already over!" he shouted, looking over at them in anguish.
"Tell us what happened with Petty Officer Reginald," Tim requested.
"You're not supposed to be here," he replied. "I'm not finished yet. He's not here yet."
"Who is not here?" Ziva asked.
"The sonofabitch who was sleeping with my girlfriend!" he yelled. "He won't be here for another ten minutes. I'm not going anywhere before then."
"We're not gonna let you kill him, Adler," McGee said. "Just lower your weapon and end this."
Adler was quiet for a long time, seemingly contemplating his options. Tim and Ziva shared a glance and she gave him a quick nod, indicating that she could take the shot if needed.
"Guess I'll just skip to the end, then," Adler said. And after a moment, he began to turn the gun on himself. Ziva reacted quickly, pulling the trigger to shoot Adler's trigger hand, which caused him to yell out as the gun dropped from his hand. McGee moved fast to apprehend Adler as Ziva retrieved the weapon...
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"You feelin' any better?" Gibbs asked as he sat across the kitchen table from him with a cup of coffee.
"Guess so," Tony said quietly. "I just don't really understand why I wig out when you leave." He tried to smirk.
"Well, you were taken from your apartment when you went in alone. It's the first time you were put in that box and it was the longest you'd spent in it. Pretty sure that's got somethin' to do with it."
"Maybe," he looked down at the table-top. "But I know Griswald is dead. And I know everyone else is in custody. I know, in my head, that it's not gonna happen again," he looked back at Gibbs. "So why can't I convince that to whatever part of my brain insists on being afraid still?"
"It's only been a couple days, DiNozzo. You gotta give it time. I'm sure it'll get easier."
"But I know I'm safe now," he said with frustration in his voice. "I do my best not to even think about it, but it doesn't seem to make a difference. When you left this morning, I was thinkin' about having somethin' to eat. That's all! Then outta nowhere my heart starts pounding in my chest and I can't breathe. And even then, I knew what was happening! I knew I was panicking and I knew I needed to just calm the hell down... Damnit!" he pounded a fist onto the table as he closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.
Gibbs narrowed his eyes, remaining silent so he could get this out of his system. He could tell that Tony was fighting against his own emotions; trying desperately to regain composure before even losing it. He could even sense the embarrassment his agent was feeling at his loss of control. But after a few long moments, he seemed to have convinced himself to calm.
"Maybe you can just knock me out before going to work, Boss," he said with a lighter attitude.
Gibbs smirked and was about to reply when his phone rang. "Hold that thought," he told Tony as he reached into his pocket and answered the cell. "Yeah, Gibbs." He paused for a moment at McGee's voice on the other line. "You both okay?" his eyes narrowed as he listened. "Get a statement from them. Have Ducky call me once he's confirmed the cause of death. Good work, McGee."
"Everything okay?" Tony asked with a furrowed brow.
"Yeah. Case closed in record time, apparently."
"Guess that means you can stay home?" he felt pathetic even saying it.
Gibbs cocked his head, "Don't see why not."
"I was thinkin'... maybe everyone could come back over for dinner tonight... since Ziva made so much food and all."
"Feelin' up to company now?" Gibbs was slightly surprised.
"I think so. It'd probably be a little easier if you didn't have to deal with me all alone," he smirked.
"Okay," Gibbs gave him a small smile. "I'll give 'em a call in a bit..."
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tbc...
A/N: I was super tired writing this. Might end up editing at some point, but it's time for bed, seriously. Hope you liked it. More to come soon...well, within 48 hours tops.