Gibbs left a voicemail with DiNozzo—not even remotely surprised he didn't answer his midnight call—and told him he didn't need to come into the office since all there was to do was wait.
Neither was he surprised when Tony showed up only a few minutes after he got in that morning. Gibbs couldn't tell if Tony's bloodshot eyes were from booze or a lack of sleep or both, but he knew his agent looked like hell.
"Didn't get my message?" Gibbs asked mildly.
"I got it," was all Tony said.
Gibbs nearly sighed, realizing how much he missed Tony's joking and light-hearted antics. The job was never easy, but the humor had always made it more bearable. Gibbs watched Ziva and McGee file in silently and he knew it was going to be another long day. He studied them both, wondering if he should ask one of them to talk to Tony.
But then he dismissed it. First, because it was his problem—his fuckup—and he never asked anyone to fix his mistakes. And second, because he knew DiNozzo would see right through it and just be more pissed off.
The phone on Tony's desk rang, and four pairs of eyes snapped toward it. He picked it up, listened for a moment, and then looked at Gibbs. "Abby—"
All three popped to their feet, but Tony just shook his head. "She said she wants to talk to me." He threw a challenging look at Gibbs. "Sounds personal," he said, his light tone contrasting sharply with the look.
Gibbs knew Tony wanted him to say no, to snap at him to deal with personal issues on his own time. So Gibbs just smiled and nodded. "Sure, Tony," he said, watching DiNozzo's eyes narrow at him. "Take your time."
Tony practically stalked out of the room, and Gibbs wasn't surprised when McGee approached his desk cautiously.
"Gibbs—"
"He's going through a rough patch," Gibbs cut him off, not looking up until he realized the shadow wasn't going away. He met McGee's eyes, read the question in them, and tried to keep the resignation out of his voice. "Just watch his back, McGee. It's all we can do."
Tony steeled himself as he walked into Abby's lab.
He knew the scientist had picked up on his frostiness toward Gibbs, and he also knew Abby wouldn't put up with his mistreatment of her silver fox for long. As it was, he was surprised she had waited until morning. He winced, thinking about the many missed calls on his cell and machine at home.
He stood in the doorway and listened to the soft, sad sounds coming from the player, feeling instantly guilty because he knew it was his fault she was listening to the melancholy music. So he tried to prepare himself for the onslaught, even though he wasn't sure he could take her disappointment and anger on top of everything else. He knew Gibbs was upset with him—if not for Kevin's death then for not being able to shake it off. And what was worse was that Gibbs was being nice to him, masking his annoyance with calm kindness that Tony knew he didn't deserve. And didn't know how to deal with.
Tony snapped out of his thoughts as Abby approached him, slowly and with uncharacteristic trepidation. She paused in front of him—only to step closer and hug him gently. Her arms were clamped around his waist instead of around his neck as usual, and he wondered if it was because this was not a normal "I missed you so much!" exuberant hug or because of the wound in his neck. Having steeled himself for anger, Tony found himself totally unprepared for her kindness and he blinked away the tears that came to his eyes at her readily offered comfort, at the sudden, unexpected solace he found in her arms.
"I'm so sorry, Tony," she whispered, her face against his shoulder as if she somehow knew her breath on his neck would only dredge bad memories and hurt him. She was even careful not to put pressure on his still badly bruised chest, making him wonder if a summons from Ducky would be coming next. "I'm so, so sorry."
He began to shake in her arms, and he felt the sudden need to spill everything that had happened in a rush of words and pain and snot and tears. Even worse, he knew she would understand.
So he pulled back, feeling physical pain at the loss of her warm embrace, the ache in his chest having nothing to do with getting shot so recently. He saw the questions in her eyes—and also the hurt.
It was definitely more than he could take.
"Tony, please!" she called to his back as he walked quickly toward the door.
He stopped but didn't turn.
"Please," she said again, the pain in her voice echoing the agony thrumming through his entire being. "Don't shut us out, Tony. Not all of us. You can give Gibbs the cold shoulder, and I'll understand. Because he was there that night, and I can imagine that even looking at any reminder of that poor little boy is hurting you right now. But we just want to be here for you—all of us. But if all you can handle is one of us, will you please let it be me? I love you, Tony. You're my best friend, and I can't stand to see you in pain like this. Please just let me be here?"
He turned slowly, watching her approach just as carefully. She stopped right in front of him, looking slightly up into his anguished green eyes with matching pain in hers. He swallowed hard and stepped back into the hug she was offering.
"You have no idea how bad I wanted to do this yesterday," she said softly, her face pressed to his shoulder again.
He forced his eyes open, banishing the terrified little boy he hadn't been able to save.
"Yeah, Abbs. I think I do."
They stayed that way for a long moment, until Tony pulled back and checked his watch. "I should get going before Gibbs bites my head off for taking so long."
Abby gave him an odd look. "Isn't that what you want from him?" she asked.
He had no idea where she had gotten her intel, but he wasn't surprised that it was dead-on. "It's weird when he's nice," he said. "And I don't understand it. I failed. He should be pissed at me."
She looked at him with something like horror. "Tony, are you insane?" she asked, gaping at him. "I know you did everything you could."
"You weren't there," Tony said, turning away.
Abby simply marched around him, big black boots noisy on the tile floor. She ducked down slightly and looked up into his eyes as he stared at the floor. "It was you, DiNozzo," she said, slightly exasperated. "And I know you would have done absolutely everything possible for that boy. So don't give me any crap, okay? I'm worried about you." She paused. "And so is Gibbs."
"That why he's being so nice?"
"And because he was there, Tony," Abby said. "If you had fucked up, don't you think he'd be ripping you a new one instead of trying to help you through this? Gibbs doesn't tolerate failure. You know that. And you didn't fail that little boy. Life did."
"So I should just get over it, right?"
Abby sighed, putting a hand on his arm and waiting until he looked at her. "No, Tony. You should let us take care of you while you figure out how to get through it. Let us help you figure that out. And stop being pissed when we try to be gentle with you. You didn't do anything wrong and you don't deserve harsh treatment." She gave him a half-smile. "So stop baiting Gibbs and trying to get him to give it to you. Because he will, eventually, and then I'll have to drag him down here when he feels bad about it."
Tony was quiet a moment, simply soaking up the comfort of Abby's touch. He sighed. "You think I should apologize to him for being such an ass?"
She rolled her eyes. "Hell no. Just try to be normal," she suggested. A smile lit her face. "See how many movie references it takes before he headslaps you."
He hesitated, and Abby saw it. "Hey," she said, smiling sadly this time and touching his face. "I know it feels wrong to try to be normal after what happened, but you're good at faking it, DiNozzo. Keep faking it until you don't have to anymore. It's okay to recover from something like this. It doesn't make you a bad person for moving on with your life—it makes you a brave one."
Tony hugged her again and pressed his lips to her pale forehead. "Has anyone ever told you you're really smart, Abbs?"
She sighed dramatically. "Not nearly enough." She poked him in the arm. "Say it again?"
He smiled genuinely for the first time since the tragedy. "You're really smart, Abbs." He turned for the door, but stopped halfway and looked back at her. "Thanks, Abby."