Disclaimer:

NCIS and all its characters belong to CBS and Donald Bellisario – I'm just playing in their sandbox. I promise to return all the toys when I'm finished. This is just for fun and no profit is being made. I wish it did belong to me, though – I would've played up that father/son bond between Gibbs and Tony a lot more.

***For my FFdotN readers:

In the interest of full disclosure, this story is not Jenny Shepard or Ziva David friendly (Moreso Jenny than Ziva). If you are fans of those characters and prefer not to see them depicted in a negative light, you should give this story a pass.

All We Are

Chapter One

Scotch is for Liars

"Was any of it real, Tony?"
"No."
"I wish I never met you."
- Internal Affairs, S5 E14

Tony pushed open the door to his apartment, listlessly resting against the wood for a moment before going fully inside. His head was throbbing so badly, it felt as if it were in a vice. Pulling upright, he kicked the door closed behind him and trudged down the short hallway to his living room, discarding his jacket and tie on the floor along the way. He sank into the familiar leather of his couch, allowing it to mold itself around him and pulled his purchase from the brown paper bag that he'd carried with him.

It had been one hell of a day.

After his confrontation with Jeanne, he'd left NCIS without speaking to anyone. He didn't have it in him to plaster on a fake smile and discuss the events of the day. He was upset, and there was no way he'd be able to hide it from his astute team members this time. So, instead of the team debriefing he knew was coming, he ducked out and stopped at a liquor store near his apartment to purchase a bottle of really expensive Scotch. The good stuff – top shelf.

His father's drink of choice.

Tony didn't usually want anything to do with Scotch simply because of the memories it invoked. Memories of his father, who used people and left them behind, shattered in his wake. The similarities were disturbingly close tonight.

He opened the bottle and took a long pull, relishing the burn as it went down. At least it was a feeling other than the cruel, mocking emptiness that was consuming him. His soul felt deader than any of the bodies that filled the drawers down in Autopsy.

Seated on his couch, eyes open but unseeing, his mind drifted back to the ugly scene at headquarters. He'd waited for the elevator to ding its arrival before giving Jeanne his short, succinct answer. He knew he'd been too close to crumbling himself if he'd stayed in her presence a moment longer.

Instead, he'd lied and gutted them both.

Feeling as if he'd been punched in the nuts, he avoided Ziva, who he was sure was awaiting him somewhere amongst the shadows and took the stairs out to the garage. He'd probably get an angry call from Gibbs soon, reaming him out for leaving before they'd had their team debrief, agonizingly going over every sordid detail that had happened that day.

Despite his deep well of experience with undercover skills, there was no way he could face that just then. He really didn't care if he got written up for insubordination. He couldn't stay in that building a moment longer. The walls were closing in, and he was falling apart. He refused to let them see him unravel because he couldn't get the destroyed look on Jeanne's face out of his head.

She'd accused him of murder. He'd been angry when he'd first learned why the FBI had him pegged as their prime suspect. Again.

Did she really hate him that much? Of course, she did. Why wouldn't she? He certainly hated himself for what he'd put her through. He'd tried so hard to avoid any unnecessary fabrications so everything between them wasn't a lie, but he'd messed up. Had he so thoroughly destroyed the good, caring woman that he knew she was and brought her down to the depths where she'd be willing to ruin both his life and his career?

Perhaps her oath to do no harm didn't extend to liars. Because no way around it, that's what he was – just like his father. Tony took another long swig of the Scotch. What kind of a monster had he become? His initial anger had melted into disgust and self-loathing as the image of Jeanne's shattered expression began to blur around the edges. At least the alcohol was doing its job.

Be a man. Ziva's words echoed in his head, bouncing from side to side and ramming into his skull at high velocity. What did that even mean? Was a man supposed to rip open a still-festering wound on the woman he loved to allow her to move on, or would it be better to admit the truth… admit he'd still like to try and make things right. Yes, he'd lied about who he was and the fact he was investigating her father. Their beginning was under false pretenses, but she'd lied that he committed murder at the end. Everything in between had been real. Was that enough to call it even and maybe try again?

Of course, it wasn't. There were no take backs in life.

Be a man. Ha! He couldn't imagine Ms. Mossad taking it all that well if he'd told her to Act Like a Lady, but the rules were never the same for Ziva.

His mind went over his interview – interrogation – with Fornell where the Fed had dug at Tony's feelings like an excavator making his jackpot discovery with a pointy, spiked blade. Tony's raw emotions, the ones he kept so carefully guarded were exposed, no matter how much he'd tried to play off his cavalier, playboy persona. He'd been incapable of keeping up the smokescreen that he was usually so adept at hiding behind.

Fornell had seen. Fornell had known.

There wasn't going to be a happily-ever-after.

Tony knew this. It was a fact he'd learned a long time ago. Life had taught him and hammered the message home over and over, but somehow, he'd still let himself believe. She let him believe.

He fell in love with her – totally, fully, head-over-heels in love with her. He didn't even realize it when it started. The feelings and emotions were so totally foreign and unexpected that he was blindsided and wasn't sure how to deal with it. Tony liked to be sure – uncertainty got you killed – but that's where he found himself. It was too late; he was under her spell, and he didn't want to get away. Telling her that he loved her hadn't been a lie.

Even though he knew it was a mistake, knew he was getting in too far, knew he was way over his head. He couldn't help it. She filled a part of him that he hadn't even been aware existed, and he couldn't reconcile those feelings with his assignment. If he could block out the fact that he was undercover, and it was all a mission, he was happy. Happier than he'd been in such a very long time.

He supposed it had something to do with the hostility he'd been receiving from McGee and Ziva after Gibbs unholy departure... or siesta, hiatus, retirement, whatever the hell he called it these days. They'd all been rocked off their game, but somehow, Tony had born the brunt of everyone's frustrations. He'd leave the office drained and overwhelmed, and he submerged himself into his alias' life. There, he was welcomed and with someone who always seemed happy to see him, and it soothed his tattered self-esteem. He'd always craved that feeling of being wanted.

With Jeanne, even though he was lying about his real name and true profession, he'd been honest about the rest. He'd allowed her to see beneath his many masks but all the while pretending to be someone else. She probably knew him better than anyone else – with the possible exception of Gibbs – ever had, even if they'd never realize it. Still, that huge lie had eaten away at him, gnawed at his belly like a parasite destroying him from within.

He didn't know how he'd expected it to end, but it wasn't like this. Perhaps he'd simply allowed himself to wear blinders, somehow hoping he could let her down easy, and she'd see the truth from the lies. Hope was always a dangerous thing.

A dangerous, misguided, soul-crushing thing.

Tony took another long swallow. The Scotch wasn't even burning anymore. Maybe his insides really were dead, or at least numbed beyond feeling anything but stark desolation. The combination of Fornell's accusing questions, digging at only thinly scabbed-over wounds and seeing Jeanne again had stirred up all the memories he'd been trying to squeeze inside a little box over the past few weeks. Now, the contents of the box were spilled everywhere, draining him, and there was no place to hide his battered heart.

He recalled the last time Jeanne had left, leaving behind a note telling him he'd have to choose. He was Tony DiNozzo, not Tony DiNardo, and he couldn't live that lie forever.

But he'd considered it.

He'd been in love before, but not like this. Not where he'd actually thought about abandoning his career in law enforcement. It was who he was, part of his DNA – but somehow, she'd become a part of him, too.

He hadn't lied when he told Fornell that he'd gone for a drive that night after he'd found the note in Jeanne's apartment. He'd had a lot of soul searching to do. He drove for hours and most of it was just a blur. He thought he might've gone to the beach and stared out at the rolling waves for a while. The tumultuous crashing of water against rock matched his mood and the hollow ache within his heart.

He remembered the devastatingly crushed look on Jeanne's face in the elevator after he'd lied tonight, claiming none of it was real.

He knew exactly how she felt.

/* /* /* /*

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was furious, and he didn't care who knew it. His whole team had lost an entire workday to a bogus witch hunt, and now they were nowhere to be found. He wanted a full sitrep from each member of his team before he could piece together exactly how this whole FUBAR had come about.

Based on Jeanne Benoit's testimony, the FBI believed Tony had killed La Grenouille, but Gibbs' instincts told him they were after more than a single target. He was convinced they'd also been after the Director. Gibbs suspected they wanted to know if Shepherd had ordered DiNozzo to make the kill. Quite honestly, after everything she'd done and all the rules and procedures that she'd sidestepped in her unrelenting quest to bring Rene Benoit down, Gibbs couldn't put it past her.

And there was still the question of her gun at the crime scene – a gun Gibbs knew for a fact had been in Jenny's possession after Benoit had left her home that night.

Still, while he might allow that in her zeal Jenny could've given the order, there was no way in hell DiNozzo would've obeyed it. There wasn't even a flicker of doubt in Gibbs' mind, despite the fact his two junior agents had considered it a possibility.

Hell, they'd actually thought DiNozzo might've gone after his girlfriend's father on his own. They hadn't yet connected the dots to wonder if Jenny could've been involved, and that worried him. As investigators, they should've made that connection. He was sure DiNozzo would once he heard all the facts.

Gibbs knew it wasn't in Tony's nature to follow an order like that – an order to kill without due process. He could be hot-headed, and he definitely had that volatile, simmering anger lurking beneath the surface, but he wouldn't kill in cold blood. He was the only actual cop amongst them, and his own moral code ran deeper than he ever let anyone see. He might let the line between right and wrong wiggle and blur, but he'd never outright cross it – not that way.

In fact, the MCRT not only had an outstanding close rate but also a very high conviction rate, because DiNozzo always made sure to dot the I's and cross the T's. He was the one who ensured that they followed the letter of the law when it mattered. DiNozzo was more conscious of that line than Gibbs, who'd definitely crossed it in a major way once and also tended to prefer shortcuts when they had a killer on the loose. For him, the end all too often justified the means.

Those cases that didn't get a conviction when some smart-ass lawyer got evidence thrown out usually happened because of a corner that Gibbs had cut, or because Ziva sometimes forgot that Mossad techniques didn't withstand the scrutiny of the US Constitution. Her training was different than the others, and sometimes she forgot which rules she needed to follow.

No, Tony wouldn't have killed unless he or others were being threatened, and he certainly would've filled Gibbs in about it immediately. His SFA had been extremely solicitous of keeping Gibbs in the know since that whole undercover fiasco. Once Gibbs heard Ziva and McGee speculating that DiNozzo could be involved, he knew it had to stop. He'd held his nose and gone right to Trent Kort to get the answers he knew the spook would have. He wasn't going to let Tony take the fall for this.

The FBI had brought Jenny in, and she'd immediately got both Tony and Jeanne cleared as suspects. She'd been adamant that DiNozzo couldn't have done it. Kort finally admitted that La Grenouille had been taken out by the CIA. Case closed.

Except… he didn't trust that Kort was being completely forthcoming – was he ever? – and Fornell hadn't given Gibbs the file incriminating Jenny that he'd said he would once she was cleared. Gibbs gut was churning. He and the Director's working relationship had been strained ever since the La Grenouille affair had been blown to hell. Literally. Gibbs was still angry about the way she'd used DiNozzo – exploited him for her own off-the-books agenda. And of course, truth be told, he was livid that he'd been kept in the dark about something so vital for such an extended period of time. She'd had his agent basically working twenty-four/seven for nearly a year – and he hadn't noticed.

He hadn't noticed a lot of things at the time.

He was just as angry at himself for his own oblivion as he was at her for her secrecy, but using Tony the way she had – that went over the line. DiNozzo still hadn't recovered from it, no matter how much he pretended he had.

What else was Jenny hiding? Because Gibbs' gut was screaming that there was more. And that was the reason he was now pacing Abby's empty lab waiting for the members of his missing team to arrive. He'd sent out a message to all telling them to meet him here for a debriefing, but so far, only Abby had shown up. McGee and Ducky had yet to return from his own basement where they'd set up shop after being told not to interfere in the FBIs investigation. Ziva and DiNozzo were in the building somewhere, but for some reason, they hadn't yet bothered to come down to the lab.

His phone rang, and he was prepared to yell at whichever team member it was before recognizing Fornell's number.

"What d'you want now, Tobias?" Gibbs asked, barely controlling his temper. He knew Fornell was acting under orders, and working alongside NCIS Assistant Director Leon Vance, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

"Take the stick out, Jethro, you'll feel better," Tobias said.

"Yeah? I know exactly where I'd like to stick it. What do you want?" Gibbs asked, rolling his eyes.

"How's DiNozzo?" Fornell asked, using the traditional Italian form of the name that Gibbs knew he used just to aggravate his agent.

"Cleared of all charges," Gibbs said blandly.

This time, he could hear Tobias rolling his eyes. "I'm aware. I also know I was pretty rough on him during his interrogation."

"What are you talking about?" Gibbs asked impatiently.

"I had a witness who claimed to have seen him murder her father. I was going for a confession," Tobias said.

"A confession to a crime he never committed," Gibbs said through gritted teeth.

"I know that now, but I didn't at the time. I made him go over a lot of his undercover work, and you know DiNozzo, he usually doesn't give much away," Tobias said.

"And?"

"And… he was rattled, Gibbs. I just thought you might want to know," he said, sighing.

"All right. So, I know."

"Always a pleasure, Jethro. Always a pleasure," Tobias said before the phone clicked off.

Gibbs took a deep breath, wondering where the hell DiNozzo was. He needed to get a handle on this situation, but he couldn't do that without all the information.

"Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs! Look who I found," Abby said, returning to the lab with her CafPow in hand. Ducky and McGee followed her through the door, both looking fatigued.

"Yes, here we are, Jethro. What's the emergency? I thought you said the FBI's case was closed," Ducky said.

"It is, but I want a private team debriefing," he snapped. "Have you seen Ziva or DiNozzo?"

"I am here," Ziva said, following them into the lab, looking cross. "But I cannot find Tony."

"What d'you mean you can't find him?" Gibbs asked.

"The last time I saw him, he was by the elevator speaking with Jeanne Benoit before she finally left the building. I waited for him, but he never returned to the bull pen," Ziva said, her posture and expression betraying her irritation.

"Did they leave together?" Gibbs asked.

"No. When I went down to security, they said that they saw her leaving alone, but they had not seen Tony," she said.

"And?" he prodded, in no mood for any more games.

"His car is gone, and they said Miss Benoit had been upset. I have tried calling Tony three times, but he will not answer, much like he refused to do when he was dating that woman," Ziva said, scowling.

"All right, we'll debrief without him, and I'll talk to him later," Gibbs said, his gut churning worse than ever.

/* /* /* /*

Despite the break-neck speed he'd driven there, it was late by the time Gibbs finally reached Tony's apartment. It had taken quite a bit of time for the team to share all the details of each of their interviews with the FBI. Abby had left NCIS after her own, and she wasn't even aware that Tony had been the target. Once she'd learned this detail, however, it was all any of them could do to keep her there. She'd been desperate to see he was all right with her own eyes. Gibbs had even scanned the parking lot at DiNozzo's apartment building for her hearse, but he hadn't seen it. Normally, he'd be ready to kick his agent's ass for being unreachable – it was a rule after all – but he was willing to cut him some slack this time.

He remembered how distressed DiNozzo had been beneath that clown act he used as a shield the last time he'd been accused of murder. He hadn't been arrested and thrown in a holding cell this time, but Gibbs suspected his agent was taking it badly. The accusation came from someone he still cared very deeply about, even if he wouldn't admit it, and although it wasn't in a cell, he'd still been locked-in for the entire day.

DiNozzo didn't do well with forced confinement.

Gibbs took the elevator up and knocked on the door, but there was no response. Luckily, he always insisted that the members of his team give him a spare key for emergencies, so he let himself in. His gut had been telling him there was a problem all afternoon. There were no lights on inside, but he could hear the television playing in the living room.

"DiNozzo?" he called.

Nothing.

He took out his weapon and slowly eased his way down the hallway, sidestepping discarded clothing along the way. DiNozzo was sitting on his couch, staring at the tv which was playing It's a Wonderful Life. The film was nearly at its conclusion despite the fact it was April. His phone and a half empty bottle of Scotch were on the coffee table, and his eyes were glazed. Gibbs put his weapon away and gingerly sat beside him, aware that the movie was of sentimental value to his agent. He could see the light blinking on Tony's phone from where he sat – eleven missed calls.

"Tried calling, but when you didn't pick up, I decided to check," he said, slightly unnerved by DiNozzo's unusual stillness.

Tony didn't respond right away, but eventually he turned his head and looked at Gibbs with bloodshot eyes.

"She said she wished she never met me, Boss," he said dully, and the pain oozing out of him was even stronger than the alcohol fumes.

Gibbs winced, but there was nothing he could say to that that would make it any better. Several of his ex-wives had expressed the same sentiment to him, but he was aware DiNozzo actually cared. He knew he was out of his element and found himself wishing Abby actually had been in the parking lot. She'd be better at this than him. Yelling at his second to get his head on straight wasn't going to work this time, not when he was so obviously wrung-out.

Besides, Gibbs owed him.

It wasn't all that long ago that DiNozzo had risked both his life and his health diving into the Potomac to rescue both Gibbs and his daughter's childhood friend. DiNozzo had always had his six, even when Gibbs let his pride and embarrassment rule his second-B-for-bastard. He still felt a measure of shame for the way he'd acted in shutting his team out. It wasn't what he'd always tried to teach them.

"Accused me of murder," Tony said, unaware of Gibbs' inner turmoil. "I thought she knew me even if she didn't really know me. Maybe she's right. Maybe I'm no better than the perps we put away."

That one, Gibbs couldn't let go. "Ah, DiNozzo, are you going to put yourself through this again? You wanna blame someone? Blame the Director for putting you in that situation. Blame me for not getting my head screwed on right quick enough. Blame her father for getting involved in arms dealing to begin with, but God damnit, give yourself a break."

"What? You're on my side now?" Tony asked, the anger that always simmered beneath the surface now thrumming. He nearly vibrated with it.

Gibbs hadn't expected that anger to rear its head so quickly, but he supposed he deserved it. He hadn't been fair the last time Tony was dealing with the repercussions of his failed assignment, and he'd been too stubborn to admit it. He hadn't realized just how deeply DiNozzo had fallen for his mark, he'd been too focused on his own fury over all the lies. He'd allowed his personal feelings to cloud his judgement. Seemed he'd been doing a lot of that lately. Consequently, he'd spent more than a few nights feeling guilty and taking his frustration out on his boat.

"I'm always on your side, DiNozzo," he said, that familiar guilt licking at his insides.

"Right – 'cept when anyone else is aroun'. You act all suppo'tive one minute, then the next have me callin' all the marks of that con artist and laughin' at me while I try to justify the lies. How is that bein' on my side, Gibbs? How?" he asked, eyes blazing.

Gibbs noticed the switch from Boss to Gibbs. Never a good sign. And it didn't help that DiNozzo was right. Gibbs hadn't been able to take out his anger over being kept in the dark on Jenny, so he'd misdirected it at DiNozzo. The whole team had been really hard on him during that case involving the Nelson family, and obviously DiNozzo hadn't let it slide off his back as easily as he'd pretended.

"It wasn't. I was angry, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you," he said. It wasn't an outright apology, but it was as close as he could get.

Tony obviously knew it too, because even in his inebriated state, his mouth fell open. "Thought apo'gies were a sign of weakness," he said, slurring.

"Not among friends, Tony. I shouldn't have taken out my temper on you, especially since I knew you were already hurting," he said, hoping DiNozzo would know it was the truth.

Tony snorted in disbelief. "Are we friends, Gibbs?" he asked.

Gibbs shrugged. The criticism was fair. "I like to think so. Know I've never been very good at it."

He could read the forgiveness flooding DiNozzo's eyes. The younger man was just going to let this one roll off his back. Again. This time, it didn't make Gibbs feel any better about the situation. Tony wasn't the guilty party here.

"You wanna drink?" Tony asked, indicating the Scotch.

Gibbs shook his head. "Nah, and I think you've had enough," he said, putting the top back on the bottle and clearing it away. "I thought you didn't like Scotch."

"My father drinks Scotch. Seems a good drink for liars," Tony said, still slurring.

Gibbs winced. He should've come over right when Ziva had told him Tony had left rather than taking the time to meet with the others. Leaving mid-case wasn't typical of his SFA, and Gibbs should've realized it.

"Knock it off," he said angrily, unhappy to see his irrepressible agent so filled with self-loathing. "You're one of the most honest people I know, despite that image you like to project. If you were really a liar like your father, you wouldn't be so upset about lying, and I wouldn't have kept you around so long."

Tony blinked, open mouthed and dazed. "Wow. That's a lot of words for you."

Gibbs suppressed the urge to grin. It really wasn't funny. DiNozzo didn't usually allow himself to get so inebriated, and Gibbs knew it had to have come from some deep inner turmoil. Again, his fury was directed at Jenny for using DiNozzo so callously in her own personal vendetta.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it because I'm not going to say it again. This wasn't your fault, and you need to move past it," he said, glaring.

Tony shrugged, his eyes dropping to avoid eye contact. "Not really sure how to do that, Boss," he said softly.

Gibbs softened a bit hearing Boss was back. He thumped Tony on the leg awkwardly a couple times. "One day at a time, DiNozzo. You pick up the pieces and go forward one day at a time."

"I still love her," Tony whispered.

"I know you do, but you're going to have to accept her decision and move on. And know you're not alone in it this time," Gibbs said, and he meant it. He wasn't going to screw up again. Gibbs knew better than anyone how long a broken heart could linger, and he wasn't about to let DiNozzo go down that same road if he could help it. He might not know how to get over it, but he knew isolating himself hadn't worked. Tony was more of a people person than Gibbs had ever been, so he just had to ensure that Tony didn't lock himself away drinking alone like he had tonight.

"You still going to be on my side tomorrow?" Tony asked, more vulnerable than he'd usually allow himself to reveal. His eyes were drooping heavily.

Gibbs winced, knowing he deserved that, but it stung, nonetheless. He reached over and placed a warm hand on the back of DiNozzo's neck, squeezing gently. "Yeah, I am. You're the best partner I've ever had, Tony, and I'm going to make sure you know it from now on."

Tony's drooping eyes widened comically. Even drunk, he recognized that praise for what it meant. "Thanks, Boss."

"Go to sleep. You're going to have a hell of a hangover in the morning," Gibbs said.

Tony's eyes had already slid shut, and Gibbs recognized it as a sign of trust. He got up and turned off the television. He then swiveled Tony's feet onto the couch, so he could lie back and threw a light blanket over him.

He filled a large glass of water and placed it on the coffee table along with a couple ibuprofen before settling himself in an adjacent chair for the night. He could start making it up to his agent by being there if he needed help during the night. Tony had been taking care of himself for entirely too long, and it was time that changed. This time, he really was going to have DiNozzo's six like the younger man had always had his.

Author's Note: I'm an unapologetic Tony/Jeanne shipper. I liked them together, and I wish the showrunners would've let them work it out. The actress came back for MWs last season, it would've been so easy to let them reconnect as Tony got his own team. That's what I would've preferred to see. Still, this is the story I wanted to tell, and I've managed to tweak the ending to season five to let this one fit right in, and I like to imagine the stories playing out from there. I hope you enjoy it.

This story is dedicated to Pammiesx3 who followed me over from the HP fandom and fell in love with NCIS, too. She actually requested the story that I'd already mostly written, but it certainly gave me a buzz hearing it.

Thanks so much to my awesome sounding board and pre-reader Sueducksfoot, who always lets me talk out scenes that have me stumped. It's like having a personal cheerleader, and I truly appreciate her enthusiasm.