A/N: Hey. Here's today's chapter.

Every mystery is a mystery because of subtle inconsistencies. Today, we'll look at a couple of them. We begin where we left off last time, at the celebration dinner after Tony's first game. Today's chapter is kind of a lot to chew, but here's where things begin to take on some speed again.

Thanks for all the reviews and early birthday wishes. It's really nice knowing that there are so many really kind, wonderful people here. I love you guys!

A waitress walked over to the table, a pizza box in her hand. She grinned at Tony and handed it to him.

"For you,"

"I didn't order anymore pizza," He said, trying to hand it back.

She pushed it gently towards him. "I know. It's from someone at the bar," She said, checking her notepad.

Tony glanced over to the bar. A few people sat, lost in their own conversations. "Do you know who?" He said, trying to push her for an answer as he so often did in interrogations, though admittedly kinder this round.

"Nope. I was just told to give the order to you. Extra meat, extra cheese, extra grease,"

Tony raised his eyebrows as he opened the box and checked the pizza inside. "Wow, good guess,"

"Hm?"

"It's my favorite," He explained.

"Oh, well, that's great. Let me know if you guys need anything else, okay?"

"Yeah sure, no problem," Tony said, gazing at the pizza. He wasn't fascinated by the dough-and-dairy delight in his hands, but at the wonder that it was there at all. He looked over at the bar once more, not finding anyone he recognized.

"You okay, DiNozzo?" Gibbs finally said.

Tony shook his head as if he was waking up from falling asleep at his desk. "No, I'm good," He said. "I'm good."

He walked into his apartment that night, box of pizza in hand. He put it in the refrigerator, unable to eat anything more. He leaned against the counter and looked out over his living room. It was empty and quiet, with only the hum of the appliances and roll-by of the cars outside his window. His dining table was covered in papers and other tid-bits. He sighed and decided to go through them, knowing he'd be unable to sleep for a couple more hours.

"Now's as good a time as any, I guess," He mumbled and walked over to the table, grabbing a trash bag on the way. For the next hour he went through the stacks mindlessly, throwing out the trash and putting the rest in a place where he'd he be able to organize them. The table was finally clean, and he began to place the papers where they belonged. He walked over to his filing cabinet and finally found a file of case notes from the summer Gibbs was gone. He pulled it open and was about to place some papers inside when something caught his eye. He pulled it out and somehow found his way to a place on the ground, leaning against the file cabinet.

It was sheet music. A piano piece Ziva had been teaching him that summer, so long ago. It had originally been a guitar-led song, but she wrote the piano music to it. She had never told him that, but she didn't need to.

It was in her fingertips, in the way she sang the words with a quiet passion, getting lost in it. She taught him how to play it. They would practice it for what felt like hours. She would sing the harmony and he would sing the melody, their voices working together in the most perfect connection.

He could hear their voices as he read the music, smiling at the line he had always had trouble with. He never got to conquer it before their lessons were over. Tony glanced over to the wall. Against it leaned his electric piano. He had bought it when she was teaching him how to play, and hadn't used it since.

For the next three hours he practiced the song again, keeping the volume low enough for his neighbors' satisfaction. Again and again he played, working through each note until it reached perfection.

That night, he fell asleep with a smile upon his lips.

The next two weeks passed quickly. Tony played basketball with his team, had lunch with Abby every day, and took extra piano lessons with Ms. Lia, practicing in his spare time. He was happy. He was breathing.

Now the time had come for his final follow-up with Doctor Barlow to determine whether or not he was mentally fit to return to work. He entered her office confidently, chatting with the receptionist for a moment before being allowed to go in.

"Agent DiNozzo," she said, smiling as she shook his head.

"Morning," he greeted her with his charming grin clear upon his face.

"Have a seat," She gestured to the couch behind him. They sat down in their respective seats, her usual notepad in hand. They had met once a week for the past five weeks as agreed, and Tony had followed her directions to the T. "How are you?"

"I'm good," he said, believing the words he was saying for the first time in a long time.

"Tell me more," she encouraged him.

"Well I've been getting decent sleep and eating just fine. Coaching a basketball team now and taking piano lessons. Having lunch with my friends, that sort of thing. So I'm good,"

"I'm glad to hear it," she said, taking notes. "So today I'll be asking some questions to see if you can go back to work—sound good?"

"Yep," he said, leaning back into the couch.

"Tell me about Ziva," she said tentatively, watching his reaction.

Tony's gaze drifted off for a moment, a small smile on his face. "Ziva was my partner for five years, and my best friend. I had her back and she had mine. She was caring and she felt a lot more than she let on. She tried to hide her emotions, but I always knew," Tony chuckled. "She butchered American idioms and kicked my butt like no one else could, not even Gibbs. We bantered and joked and it was just… perfect,"

"Tell me about the day Ziva died,"

Tony nodded a little, both acknowledging and remembering. "She had gone to a witness's house to check it out. She was gone for two hours and we couldn't contact her. We tracked her cell phone and went to its location. Her car was abandoned. She wasn't anywhere to be found. But we did find her badge, and a pool," he said, his brow furrowing as he let his words fade.

"A pool?"

"No, a pool. A pool of blood. No body, just the blood," he said, realizing. Suddenly, Tony stood and pulled out his cell phone. "We'll have to reschedule, Doctor Barlow. I've got something to do," he called, running out of her offices.

Tony was at the Navy Yard in a matter of minutes, defeating Ziva's record and almost getting into as many wrecks. He entered the Navy Yard and NCIS HQ, having called Gibbs to meet him to get him in, as his badge and ID had been confiscated for the time being.

"What's this all about, DiNozzo?" Gibbs finally asked as they entered the squadroom from the stairs. Tony had refused to wait for the elevator and had instead dashed up the stairwell.

"A pool of blood," He said, walking into the bullpen. McGee was sitting at his desk. He smiled at Tony and was about to speak. "Another time, Probie. Can you pull up those crime scene photos from Ziva's case? The ones we took of the blood,"

"Sure," McGee said, following his request. The photo emerged on the plasma quickly.

"Now, why was there a pool of blood?"

"She bled out,"

"No, no way," Tony said. "If she bled out, we would have found her body,"

"They moved it," McGee said, confused. "Not unusual,"

"If they had an urgent enough reason to move her body, then why would they give her the chance to bleed out? It would have taken a while to let her bleed that much. And we know she never went inside Holt's house—we didn't find her fingerprints or DNA on the door,"

"We didn't find any blood spatter either," McGee pointed out.

Gibbs stared at the screen, feeling slightly stupid for having missed it, and yet proud of Tony for having caught it. "You're right,"

"So why leave her badge?"

"It was a message," Tony said.

"Message?" McGee said, totally lost.

"They wanted us to think that, without a doubt, that she was dead," Gibbs said.

Tony just stared at the screen. He couldn't speak, he couldn't move, he couldn't even blink. The entire squadroom had seemed to be overwhelmed in silence as they watched the MCRT members in astonishment. An hour seemed to pass before Tony turned around to the hushed room, confused eyes scanning the other agents in a panorama before finally landing on Gibbs.

"She's alive," he said in a voice filled with disbelief, shock, and slowly it transformed to an unspeakable joy. "She's alive."

Yeah, I know.

I'm happy too! I've been wanting to say something for a while now. But before you jump to conclusions... Well, don't. : )

The song mentioned in this chapter is Awake by Secondhand Serenade. They lyrics fit this chapter, this whole story even, very well. Here's a couple of lines.

"And if it's a hero you want, I can save you. Just stay here. Your whispers are priceless. Your breathe, it is dear. So please stay near... You're changing me. You're changing me. You showed me how to live."

So yeah. Don't forget to review.