A/N: Hey. Here's today's chapter. Sorry for the wait!

Bright lights. Yes. He had died. That must have been what had happened. Light was the first thing he noticed as he opened his eyes, just a little. But as he willed himself to open them wider, he realized the truth: he wasn't dead. He was in a hospital.

"Tony?" A tentative voice asked. Abby. "Tony, are you awake?" He blinked a few times, his vision finally focusing on Abby. "Hey, Tony," She said softly, smiling. He opened his mouth to speak, but found his throat achingly dry. "Wait, hold on," She said, pouring him a cup of water from the plastic pitcher beside the bed.

She held it to his mouth and he took a small sip. "Thanks," He said in a low voice. Abby smiled. Just then, Gibbs and McGee walked in. "Boss," He said. He tried to sit up.

Gibbs put up a hand. "Not yet, DiNozzo," Tony relaxed into the pillows on the hospital bed, relieved. It was then that he became aware of the numerous machines he was connected to, and the breathing tubes in his nose. A doctor walked in.

"Mr. DiNozzo? I'm Doctor Wilder,"

"Hey, Doc,"

"Do you know where you are?" Dr. Wilder asked in a kind voice.

Tony motioned to the cup in Abby's hand. He couldn't have enough of the water. She allowed him to finish the cup. "Hospital," He said after he had finished.

"Bethesda,"

"Great," Tony said, his voice still soft.

"Do you remember what happened?"

Tony closed his eyes as he remembered, wincing. "I walked into the elevator. Started to remember some things. Started to get all sweaty and hot. My head was throbbing. My knees buckled and I went down. I couldn't breathe and my heart was going crazy. I remember the elevator doors opening and I think I hear someone call my name and then I went unconscious," Tony glanced at Gibbs. "What happened to me?"

"You had an acute stress reaction,"

"I'm not stressed," Tony protested.

Dr. Wilder hesitated before speaking. "I understand your partner died a few weeks ago, and you haven't been sleeping or eating well since. You've been depressed,"

"I've been sleeping and eating just fine,"

"Special Agent Gibbs tells me you've been sleeping for over eighteen hours at a time,"

Tony looked down. "Didn't feel like doing much else,"

"Depression," McGee reminded him. "Not to mention the endless take-out,"

"I'm fine," He insisted.

"Then why are you in a hospital bed?" Gibbs pointed out. Tony sighed.

"I hear you also suffered a heavy blow to the head two days ago,"

"I've been out that long, huh?"

"Mr. DiNozzo,"

"Special Agent DiNozzo," Tony corrected.

"Special Agent DiNozzo. It's not my area of expertise, but it sounds to me like you're suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder,"

"Ha!" Tony laughed a little, but the concerned looks on his co-workers eyes told him the truth. "So what, I gotta go see a shrink?"

"Among other things. I'm referring you to my friend, Dr. Sherry Barlow. She also works here at Bethesda. This is all free, since you work for NCIS,"

"Fantastic. So how long am I out of work for?" Tony asked, his voice sarcastic with frustration.

"Depends,"

"On what?"

"How long it takes you to heal," I never will.

Tony sat uncomfortably in the large, roomy office, just as he had in the small, dark waiting waiting room, or whatever the secretary had called it. A flag with only thirteen stars was framed on the wall, along with a myriad of ship models and awards.

A woman walked in, dressed in a suit and white "lab" coat. She had blond shoulder length hair, probably in her fifties. She held out her hand to Tony. "I'm Dr. Sherry Barlow,"

"Tony DiNozzo, NCIS," He said. She sat down in a chair across from him, typical yellow notepad in hand. He laughed at the stereotype. "Now before you make any assumptions or whatever crap you call it, I don't buy the whole anti-depressants and journaling and yoga and meditation thing. It's all just a show. Trust me, I know, so don't even try and make me think otherwise,"

"Okay," She complied.

He grinned. "Yeah, see, this is what I figured you'd do. Agree with everything I say. Do whatever it takes to keep my blood pressure low and my spirits high,"

"I'm just here for you to talk, Special Agent DiNozzo. Tell me about yourself,"

"You've seen my file,"

"I haven't talked to you, though,"

He chuckled but decided to give in a little. Just a little. "Fine. Grew up in New York. Majored in Physical Education at Ohio State University. Played basketball there. Worked in a few different police departments. Parked at NCIS,"

"That tells me nothing,"

"I don't need to tell you anything. I'm fine,"

"Then why were you in a hospital two weeks ago?"

Tony laughed. "That's what my boss asked," His smile fell just a little. "I had an acute stress reaction,"

"I know,"

"Exactly,"

Dr. Barlow sighed. "Tell me about your partner,"

Tony shifted on the couch. "Ziva was a Mossad officer. She joined the team four years ago. Almost five. Kicked my butt all the time. I usually deserved it. I messed with her all the time, but to tell you the truth, I think she enjoyed it," His eyes grew distant as he spoke. "She was murdered a few weeks back. Never found her body,"

"I'm sorry for your loss,"

"They taught me that one too,"

She sighed once more. "Special Agent DiNozzo, if you don't work this out, you'll never go back to NCIS as a special agent. You won't pass your psych evals. You're on a self-destructive path. You could run down your immune system. You could die,"

"Yeah, probably," He agreed.

"And that doesn't bother you?"

Tony looked down. "Not anymore,"

"You lived for her," She realized. He looked up quickly. "And now that she's gone, you're not sure how to live without her,"

"I'm perfectly independent, Dr. Barlow,"

"I know. Let me fill in the blanks for you, Special Agent DiNozzo. You were disinherited at twelve by your father who remarried multiple times after your mother died. You moved from department to department when you landed at NCIS and finally found a home there. Then your partner, Kate dies. Ziva joins the team. You're compromised in your undercover assignment. You failed your protection duty and Director Shepard died. You were relocated to the USS Ronald Regean and then the USS Seahawk. You were finally rejoined with your team four months later. You've been moving around your whole life. You are independent,"

"Then why am I here?"

"I'd ask you the same question," She replied. She looked at him. She saw the dark circles surrounding his tired, weak green eyes. She saw the hopeless expression on his face. She understood. "You don't have to believe what I say, Special Agent DiNozzo. You don't have to buy a word of it. But you don't have to blame yourself either. Not for this. Not for any of it," She pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket. "Your case is a very mild one, despite your stress reaction. You're not a danger to yourself or to anyone else around here, as long as you follow my orders. You need to get eight to ten hours of sleep every night. Three healthy meals a day. You need to get some exercise. Get involved in some activities outside of work. Come meet with me once a week for the next five weeks and we'll see if we can get you to pass your psych evaluations, alright? But for now, you should call this number,"

"Whose is it? Another doctor? You giving up on me, Dr. Barlow?" He asked, his tone sarcastic once more.

"No. Rebekah David. Ziva's cousin. I believe she has something for you,"