Summary: Tony is injured working a case â" and comes to a shocking realisation.
This is my attempt to explain Tony's characterisation in S6 and S7.
Categories: Gen Characters: Anthony DiNozzo
Genre: Angst, Character study
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: Series: None
Chapters: 1
Completed: Yes
Word count: 18206
Read: 6898
Published: 12/02/2009
Updated: 12/02/2009
Story Notes:
Many thanks to: Tejas for beta, and Nikitariddick for encouragement. Any mistakes are my own.
1. Family by Xanthe
Author's Notes:
Tony is injured working a case, and comes to a shocking realisation.
This is my attempt to explain Tony's characterisation in S6 and S7.
Family
By Xanthe
âTake a seat, Agent DiNozzo.â
âTony.â Tony gave a broad grin. âCall me Tony. Makes things less formal - I'd prefer to be on first name terms with someone whoâs gonna be rummaging around in my head for the next hour.â
âTony - if that makes you feel more comfortable.â Dr. Farley gave him a pleasant smile.
âIt does. Hey, Iâd shake your hand butâŚâ Tony gestured with his head to the sling encasing his right arm. He used the movement to take a good look at Farley. He judged him to be in his mid-forties; he had thinning dark hair and a round, almost cherubic face. He was fat and looked like he dressed more for comfort than for style. He was wearing a chunky cardigan in a particularly unpleasant shade of green, buttoned up over a plain beige shirt. His only really interesting feature was a pair of perceptive and unusually dark brown eyes.
Tony glanced around the room, taking in the neutral coloured walls, comfortable chairs, and state of the art computer system. âNice place youâve got here. You sure you work for the Navy? Youâve got cooler tech than we have. McGee would be so jealous.â
âPlease sit down, Tony.â
Tony did as he was told. âWow, these are comfy. Is it all part of the deal? Make it so comfy we forget weâre in a shrinkâs office and feel like weâre at home, relaxing on the couch in front of the TV? That how it works, Dr. Farley? Is that what I should call you, by the way? Or maybe you want me to call you by your first name, part of the whole making-things-cosy deal?â
âWhat makes you most comfortable?â Dr. Farley gazed at him from bland brown eyes.
âWell, most people are more comfortable with first names - creates an illusion of intimacy even if it doesnât really exist.â Tony shrugged. âOoh - see what I did there? That was a deflection. But you know that already - see, I figure being a shrink is like doing an interrogation, and Iâve seen Gibbs do enough interrogations to know all the tricks.â He leaned forward and spoke in a low, cold tone. âSo youâd better be good to get past me, Dr. Farley.â
The other man gazed at him impassively. Tony grinned. âHey, lighten up. Iâm just kidding. What is your first name anyway?â
âSimon. You can call me that if you want.â
Tony laughed. âNo. I just wanted to know what it is. When you get to know me, youâll realise how nosy I am. Iâd prefer to call you Dr. Farley.â
Dr. Farley didnât react, which was kind of annoying. Tony liked people to react.
âWhich is interesting,â Tony continued. âBecause it implies Iâve cast us in certain roles, doesnât it? You as the âDoctorâ, the authority figure ��" me as âTonyâ - maybe Iâm more comfortable in a deferential, even subservient role. Or maybe I just want you to view me as unthreatening - and kinda cuddly.â
âIs that how you view yourself?â
Tony laughed. âSure - Iâm very cuddly.â Dr. Farley didnât smile. Tony could see this one would be a hard nut to crack. âYou donât believe me?â he asked.
âNo - I think *you* donât believe you,â Dr. Farley replied. âI think you think youâre the complete opposite of unthreatening and cuddly. You think that youâre very dangerous indeed.â
Tonyâs smile broadened, and he sank back into his chair. âOh, I knew this was gonna be fun,â he said. âIf my arm wasnât in this damn sling Iâd be rubbing my hands together in glee right now.â
Dr. Farley gazed at him thoughtfully. âSo, tell me about your injury, Tony.â
âWhat do you want to know?â Tony shrugged and then winced slightly as the movement hurt his shoulder. âItâs all in the report - they gave you a report on me, right? I mean, itâs why Iâm here. I got shot, and itâs in the regs that before I can return to duty I have to see a shrink for a psych evaluation.â
âIâve read the report. Iâd like to hear about the incident from you.â
âIâm not traumatised by it, if that's what you're wondering. Iâve been knocked out, beaten up and shot at more times than I can remember. Oh, and someone once deliberately infected me with the pneumonic plague. I didnât have to see a shrink before they let me go back to my job then. Although I guess the people who write the regs probably didnât think to include a clause on the plague. Itâs so medieval, dontcha think?â
âI think it sounds terrifying. I note that you nearly died on that occasion.â Dr. Farley glanced down at his notes.
âNah.â Tony waved his free hand. âGibbs wouldnât let me die. Apparently there was an 85% chance I wouldnât make it, but Gibbs told me I had to live. So I did.â
âDo you always do what Agent Gibbs tells you?â
âHeâs my boss.â
Dr. Farley raised an eyebrow.
âDoes the raised eyebrow mean something in particular? Just, when Gibbs raises an eyebrow it usually means âshut the fuck up, DiNozzoâ. I talk a lot. You might have noticed.â
âAny reason you didnât want to answer my question about doing whatever Agent Gibbs tells you to do?â
âI did answer it.â
âNo, you deflected - but, as you pointed out, youâre a veteran of many interrogations, Tony. You know that.â Dr. Farley sat back in his chair and clasped his hands together over his substantial belly.
âGibbs is my boss. I obey his orders.â Tony shrugged. âIf youâd met Gibbs, youâd understand why.â
âI have met Agent Gibbs,â Dr. Farley informed him blandly.
âAh yes. Ari.â Tony remembered the shot to the shoulder Gibbs had taken six years ago. Presumably Gibbs had taken a psych evaluation back then too. âMan, I donât envy you having to get inside Gibbsâs head. Bet that was scary.â
âI canât discuss another patient with you, Tony.â
âBut you can discuss me with him, canât you?â Tony said, in a harder tone than heâd intended. âYouâre a Navy shrink, Doc, and this psych eval is a regulatory requirement. Any report you write will go to my boss. And yes, I did call you âdocâ just then to belittle you, bring you down a peg or two, make it clear you donât intimidate me. Hey, maybe I donât like being in a subservient role as much as we both thought, huh?â
Dr. Farley smiled. âWe could talk about it. I note from your file that you once turned down an opportunity to have your own team.â
Tony flicked a piece of lint from his jeans. âThere were reasons. It was complicated.â
âYou havenât had a promotion in eight years. Does that bother you?â
Tony glanced up sharply. âIâm happy in my job. I like it where I am.â
âOkay.â Dr. Farley nodded.
âLetâs talk about how I got shot,â Tony said firmly.
~*~
Tony lay flat on his belly under the broad beams. They cast shadows over the upper level of the barn, acting as camouflage, concealing him. Clutching his gun in his hand, he slid a few inches closer to the edge and peered down into the main area of the barn beneath.
Gibbs, McGee and Ziva were sitting there, just a few feet away from him ��" and they werenât alone. Their suspect, Lieutenant Mark Collins, had them sitting on ammunition boxes with their hands tied behind their backs. Tony watched as Collins came into view, directly beneath him. He was carrying a massive machine gun ��" no surprises there, as the man had a fascination with weaponry going back to kindergarten from all the info Tony had dug up on him.
âYouâve seen too many action movies, Collins,â Tony muttered to himself. âThink of yourself as quite the Rambo, dontcha?"
He was surprised that his hunch about the barn had paid off. He hadnât expected Collins - or his illegal weapons cache - to actually be here. Neither had anyone else on the team, judging by the sighs and rolled eyes that had been their reaction to his suggestion that they check it out. Theyâd only come here in the end because they had no other leads. After an hour and a half in the back of the car with Gibbs driving, half of it cross-country without a road in sight, Tony had jumped out of the car the minute they arrived and immediately thrown up.
Theyâd left him there to recover while they went to check out the barn. Had they been sloppy? That wasnât like Gibbs, but theyâd clearly walked straight into Collinsâs lair. Tony wondered who'd been more surprised - his team or Collins?
Tony had sat beside the car, still feeling green around the gills, for about twenty minutes. When they hadnât returned after that time heâd become worried. Heâd crept up a flight of rickety old wooden stairs on the outside of the barn and entered it on the upper level to find that his entire team had been taken hostage by the psychopath theyâd been hunting.
~*~
âWere you scared?â Dr. Farley asked.
âOf course I was damn well scared!â Tony rolled his eyes. âBut you have to understand what itâs like when youâre out there, Doc. The adrenaline kicks in, and you donât feel the fear.â
âWere you annoyed that nobody listened to your suggestion about the location of Collinsâs hideout?â
Tony shook his head. âNo, it was just a hunch.â
âThat wasnât what you said earlier. You said youâd done some digging into Collinsâs background. It sounds more like a solid piece of detective work than a hunch. Yet your team reacted with irritation when you voiced it ��" why is that?â
âItâs my manner. I like to wind them up. They like to shoot me down.â
âInteresting choice of words.â Dr. Farley nodded at his injured arm.
âMetaphorically - they like to metaphorically shoot me down,â Tony growled. âIâm annoying - I annoy them. On purpose.â
âWhy?â
Tony frowned. âI donât know. Itâs just who I am. I like to jerk a few chains. It amuses me. Can we get back to the shooting now?â
Dr. Farley shrugged. âIf you want, Tony.â
~*~
Collins was a killer. No doubt about it. Ducky had two of his victims in his refrigerator back at Autopsy, so shot up they were almost in pieces. Collins really did like his machine guns.
Tony risked peering over the edge again. Collins was talking to Gibbs - or maybe ranting was a better word for it. Gibbs replied in a calm voice, trying to talk Collins down, but Tony could see that Collins was becoming increasingly agitated. He hadnât expected to be found like this. He'd been caught out and was thinking on his feet - and the conclusions he was reaching were all too obvious. The entire team knew what Collins would do - theyâd spent enough time in this guyâs head over the past few days.
Tony looked down and judged the distance between himself and Collins. He should be able to make a shot like this; Gibbs was always making them practise in the firing range, and Tony always turned in damn good scores. Okay, so he wasnât in Gibbsâs league where accuracy was concerned, but the guy had been a sniper for a living so who was?
At that precise moment Gibbs looked up, over Collinsâs shoulder, and caught sight of him. Nothing in his expression gave Tony away, but he looked straight into Tonyâs eyes and made a tiny motion with his head, giving Tony the order to shoot.
Collins was standing almost directly beneath him, within clear range of fire; this was Tonyâs chanceâŚ
~*~
âDid you shoot?â Dr. Farley asked.
âNot then, no.â Tony shook his head.
âI thought you said you had a clear shot?â
âI did.â
âAnd Agent Gibbs gave you an implicit order to shoot.â
âYes.â
âAnd you always obey Agent Gibbsâs orders. You said so yourself.â
âI know.â
âSo why didnât you take the shot?â
Tony gazed at him helplessly. âI donât know.â
~*~
Gibbs was engaging Collins in conversation, trying to keep him still, in one place, giving Tony a clear and easy shot at him. Gibbs trusted him to get it right. He trusted Tony to make the shot and take out the bad guy. Hadnât they done this kind of thing countless times before?
Collins moved suddenly, unexpectedly. He brandished the machine gun, pointing it at his captives. Tony wiped away the sweat trickling into his eyes. He had to focus. His hand was shaking - and he could see Gibbs looking up at him, clearly wondering why the hell he was hesitating.
~*~
âYouâve killed people before,â Dr. Farley said, glancing down at his file.
âYes.â Tony nodded. âPlenty of times.â
âHow did you feel about it?â
âItâs an occupational hazard.â Tony grinned. Dr. Farley looked straight through him. âLook, I donât like it, nobody does - well, maybe Ziva does, but most *normal* people donât. But you do it because theyâre scumbags and usually itâs either them or you. I donât like it, but I can handle it.â
âWere you worried you would fire and miss? It sounds as if you were putting a lot of pressure on yourself. You compared your shooting skills with those of Agent Gibbs and found yourself wanting.â
âHey - Iâm not in Gibbsâs league but *nobody* is. Gibbsâs superhero skill is being able to hit any target, anywhere, from any distance. He once shot someone in a moving helicopter from the ground for Godâs sake! Heâs a fucking legend.â
âWhatâs your superhero skill, Tony?â Dr. Farley asked, with a little smile.
âPissing people off?â Tony answered, with a smile of his own.
âYou think so? I think itâs keeping them out,â Dr. Farley replied. âPissing them off is just one of the ways you do it.â
Tony sat back in his chair and crossed one leg nonchalantly over the other. âWell, as you have all the answers, why donât you tell me why I found it so hard to pull the trigger?â
âI donât know.â Dr. Farley shrugged. âOnly you know that. Iâm just here to help you find out. What happened next?â
~*~
Tony gripped his gun hard and took aim. If he waited just a few more seconds then Collins would blast his team to smithereens. Then theyâd just be three more corpses for Duckyâs steel tables, their bodies torn into bloody strips of ribbon like Collinsâs other victims.
Tony could feel Gibbsâs gaze on him, boring into him, telling him to shoot ��" ordering him to shoot. Tony gripped his gun even harder, willing his hand to stop shaking. Heâd delayed too long. His team didn't have much time left. He had to do this *now*.
He lifted his hand quickly and fired.
And missed.
All hell broke loose. Collins turned and fired off a hail of bullets in his direction. Tony threw himself down behind a pile of hard, wooden boxes, hearing them splinter and shatter as a round of machine gun fire ripped through them. He landed on his side with a thud and rolled over to see Gibbs moving in the barn below. Gibbsâs hands were free, and Tony saw a glint of silver before Gibbs embedded the blade of his knife in Collinsâs back.
âRule number nine strikes again!â Tony giggled to himself. Gibbs had clearly cut through the rope binding his wrists with his concealed knife while heâd been keeping Collins talking.
Everything slowed down - it was almost comical to see the surprised look on Collinsâs face as the knife went in. Collins gurgled something and blood streamed out of his mouth and down his face. He took a step forward, then another, and then he fell onto his knees. Tony was fascinated to see that he was already dead even as he fell, slowly and gracefully, onto his face.
~*~
âWhy did you laugh?â Dr. Farley asked.
âIt was funny.â Tony shrugged.
âWhy was it funny?â
âI donât know. It just was. You know, me missing an easy shot at relatively close range, and Gibbs being the one to save the day, despite having his hands tied behind his back. Gibbs has more than one superhero skill, Doc! Thatâs probably why some of us missed out on our share when they were handing out the superhero skills.â
âYou hero-worship Agent Gibbs,â Dr. Farley commented.
âYes.â Tony nodded. There no point in denying that; everyone knew.
âThat must make it hard for you to admit that you also resent him.â
Tony blinked. âWhy would I resent Gibbs?â he asked blankly.
âYou had a chance at leading your own team, but you passed it up. Says in your file that you were concerned about Agent Gibbsâs brain injury on his return from Mexico - you thought he had some gaps in his memory. You were worried about him and your team. You ran that team for four months during Gibbsâs absence and according to Director Shepard's notes you did an excellent job. Then Gibbs returned and shunted you back down into the second in command position, and in a rather unceremonious way, judging by these notes.â
âThatâs just Gibbs.â Tony shrugged. âHeâs never been great at social niceties. I didnât take offence. Hell, I was happy to have him back. I missed him. We all did.â
âDo you think he values the job you do?â Dr. Farley asked, gazing at him intently. âDo you feel valued on the team, Tony? The team that you once led, even if only for a few months?â
âSure. I mean, we bicker all the time, but that doesnât mean shit. Abby always says weâre like a family.â He gave a wry grin. âA really dysfunctional family! And no matter how much we tease each other, we always have each otherâs six out in the field.â
âAnd you really believe that?â Dr. Farleyâs brown eyes were curious.
Tony rolled his eyes. This idiot had clearly never been out in the field - hell, heâd probably been a desk jockey his entire life. âNo offence, Doc, but you have no idea what itâs like out there - you have to trust the people on your team to have your six, or youâre dead. â
~*~
Time speeded up again. Tony was dimly aware of Gibbs inspecting Collins to make sure he was dead and then using his knife to free Ziva and McGee. Tony closed his eyes. They didnât need him for this bit. It wasnât as if heâd been much use so far anyway. Gibbs had saved the day despite his own incompetence.
âDiNozzo? DiNozzo!â Gibbsâs voice. In his ear. He struggled to open his eyes. âChrist, DiNozzo...okay, hold on. Tony...hold on.â
He forced his eyes open by a great act of will. Gibbs was crouching beside him, his hands covered in blood. He was pressing down hard on Tonyâs shoulder.
âHurts, Boss,â Tony muttered.
âYeah. He got you. Shoulder wound.â
Tony closed his eyes again. He wasnât sure how much time passed. He could hear Gibbs barking orders, and Ziva yelling into her cell phone for paramedics.
âShould send a âcopter,â Tony muttered, eyelids fluttering open again. âWouldnât wish that journey on anyone on wheels,â he explained, with a little grin.
Gibbs was gazing at him searchingly from puzzled blue eyes. Tony didnât want to see the question in them. Or maybe he didnât want Gibbs to see the answer in his own. He closed his eyes again, and this time he kept them closed until he was safely in the hands of the paramedics, on his way to the hospital.
~*~
âDid any of your team accompany you to the hospital?â Dr. Farley asked.
âNope.â Tony shook his head. âOh wait; donât read too much into that! My injury wasnât life-threatening, and they had a crime scene to process. There was a dead body and enough military hardware in that barn to run a small war. I didnât need any of them to come with me in any case. Iâm a big boy, Dr. Farley - I donât need anyone to hold my hand.â
Farley nodded. There was a little pause. Farley looked down at his notes and then up at Tony again. âYou likened your team to a âdysfunctional familyâ. What do you feel your place is in that family, Tony?â
âOh thatâs easy!â Tony grinned. âIâm the annoying big brother. You know, the one with the fast car who goes out and gets all the hot babes and pisses off the other kids. I cause trouble, and Dad has to slap
me back down for that every so often, but everyone knows Iâll always look out for them, even if I do wind them up.â
Dr. Farley looked gently amused by Tonyâs description. âDad?â he queried. Tony laughed.
âNo prizes for guessing thatâs Gibbs. Heâs the stern father figure; he doesnât say a lot, but he hands out the discipline and the tough love whenever we need it. Heâs damn good at his job, and he demands
that we are too. He gets the best out of us that way. We all want to please him, not least because heâs a total bastard when heâs pissed off.â
âAnd Ziva David? Whatâs her place?â
Tony gave a twisted little smile. âSheâs the scary step-sister. The kind who pulls the wings off insects in the back yard. Sheâs hot, but sheâs dangerous. Good to have on your side in a fight - bad to have staring down at you from the barrel of a gun.â
âHmm. And Timothy McGee?â
âGeeky little bro. He knows some stuff that comes in useful every now and then, and boy does he go on about it. Itâs all âMITâ this and âJohns Hopkinsâ that. I have to teach him how to toughen up, so heâll survive out there in the big bad world. He can kill whole armies online, but heâs not so tough with real life bad guys. Heâs getting there though. In factâŚheâs grown up a lot lately. He probably doesnât need me kicking his ass any more.â
âAnd Abigail Sciuto?â
Tony smiled softly. âSheâs our baby sister. Everyone loves Abby. Sheâs got a heart of solid gold, and sheâs always the smartest person in the room ��" but youâd never know it. Sheâs kind of a child under all the leather and chains and the Goth make-up. â
âWhat about Dr. Mallard?â
âDucky? Maybe heâs grandpa?â Tony hazarded. âOr Mom? Donât tell him I said that though! He fusses over us but donât be fooled by that polite, rambling and occasionally befuddled exterior; heâll kick your ass if you go too far. Heâs the only one who can kick Gibbsâs ass.â
He chuckled to himself. This was fun; at least heâd gotten Farley distracted and off topic.
âSo, some psycho is holding your team hostage,â Dr. Farley said. âAnd theyâre not just your team, theyâre your *family*; your dad, your little brother, and your step-sister. This bastardâs got a machine gun, and you know heâs a killer because heâs murdered two people already. Heâs standing right there, just beneath you, and you have a clear shot - but you hesitate. Why is that, Tony?â
~*~
Tony let himself into his apartment. âHey, honey, Iâm home!â he called.
Jeff emerged from the bedroom, his forehead creased up in an anxious frown. âWhere were you? I was worried when you didnât come back last night.â He saw the sling on Tonyâs arm and ran over to him. âOh shit, Tony - what the hell happened to you?â He traced a finger over the sling. âAre you okay? Are you hurt?â
Tony gave him a tired smile and threw himself down on the couch. âItâs okay, Jeff. Donât get your panties in a wad. I got shot. I was in the hospital all night and most of today while they patched me up and checked me out, but itâs fine. Iâm fine.â
âYou got shot, and you think thatâs fine?â Jeff sat down opposite him, looking anxious again. âTony, I donât know what Iâd do if anything happened to youâŚâ
âNothing happened to me.â Tony shrugged and then gave a pained grimace. âMan it hurts.â He reached into his pocket for the bottle of painkillers theyâd given him at the hospital. âThis is the good stuff,â he told Jeff with a big grin. âBetter than anything you can buy over the counter. And I think I know just the right thing to wash them down with.â
He went over to his wet bar, retrieved a bottle of vodka, and brought it back over to the coffee table.
âOh, Tony, I donât know. Are you supposed to drink alcohol if youâre taking painkillers?â Jeff asked. Tony laughed.
âCâmon, Jeff; when the hell do you and I ever do what weâre *supposed* to do, huh?â He went back to the wet bar, got two glasses, and then returned to thump himself back down on the couch. He was so damn tired. âJoin me?â He held up the bottle of vodka. Jeff gave him a sly grin, and Tony laughed again. âKnew you would. Hey, wanna watch a movie?â
âA Tony Curtis movie?â Jeff asked eagerly. Tony sighed.
âOkay, if we must. Which one?â
âThe Vikings!â Jeff said excitedly. âI love the bit where Kirk Douglas gets his eye ripped out by Tony Curtisâs falcon.â
âYeah. You would,â Tony grunted. âHere.â He poured two glasses of vodka and then swallowed his painkillers down with a gulp, draining his glass. âDamn thatâs good. Itâs been one hell of a couple of days.â
He put the movie into the DVD player and sat back on the couch to watch. Jeff made happy little noises every time someone got hurt or killed.
âBloodthirsty bastard,â Tony said, with a roll of his eyes.
âYeah, but you know that about me, Tony.â Jeff grinned at him. Then he went very still and his face creased up into that anxious frown again. âHey ��" the guy who shot you - did you kill him, Tony?â
âNo, Jeff, I didnât kill him.â Tony sighed.
âYou sure?â Jeff asked suspiciously.
âAbsolutely. I did shoot at him, but I missed.â
âReally?â Jeff looked surprised. âBut youâre such a good shot, Tony.â
Tony shrugged. âMaybe I was having an off day. Gibbs had to knife him in the back.â
Jeffâs eyes gleamed in the dark room. âGibbs used a knife?â
âDonât go there, Jeff,â Tony warned.
âIâm just asking.â
âNo, youâre fishing for the gory details, as usual. Now shut up and watch the movie.â
He leaned back, sipping on his drink. The painkillers and alcohol were combining to make him feel nice and woozy. At that moment there was a knock on the door, and Jeff jumped up, startled.
âWho is that? Were you expecting anyone, Tony? Should I go?â
Tony nodded his head in the direction of the bedroom. âJust lie low, Jeff. Iâll see who it is.â
~*~
âWhoâs Jeff?â Dr. Farley asked, frowning as he examined Tonyâs file again.
Tony hesitated. âJeffâs my roomie,â he said eventually.
âI didnât know you had a room-mate.â
âYeah. I sub-let my apartment when I was an agent afloat. Jeffâs a great guy, known him a few years. He moved in while I was gone, then I came back kinda sudden, and I didnât have the heart to evict him.â
âSo Jeffâs just a friend,â Dr. Farley commented neutrally. Tony let out a delighted laugh and clicked his fingers in the air.
âAh ��" I know what youâre thinking! Youâre thinking you shouldnât ask, so I wonât have to tell!â
âTony, you may investigate military crimes, but youâre not in the military; youâre a civilian. If Jeff is your boyfriend, itâs perfectly okay for you to admit that to me,â Dr. Farley told him.
Tony shook his head, still chuckling to himself. âJeff isnât my boyfriend, Doc. Heâs a friend, a really good friend. Best friend I ever had. Kinda friend you can be yourself with, yâknow? Kind of friend who likes
you for what you are - doesnât judge you.â
âOkay.â Dr. Farley nodded slowly. âWhereâs this going, Tony? I thought you were going to tell me why you hesitated before shooting at Collins.â
âPatience, Doc! Iâm getting there.â
~*~
Tony got up with some difficulty, staggered towards the door and opened it. Gibbs was standing there.
âOh, hey Boss. They let me out of the hospital,â Tony said stupidly.
âI know. Just came from there. Was gonna drive you home, but they said youâd checked yourself out early.â
âYeah, canât stand those places. Got a cab.â Tony stood there, leaning heavily on the door.
âSure thatâs it, DiNozzo?â Gibbs glared at him. âThought maybe you were trying to avoid me.â
âWhy would I do that, Boss?â Tony gazed at him blankly.
âIn case I asked you a question you didnât wanna answer.â Gibbs looked over his shoulder. âYou going to let me in, or do we have to have this conversation in the hallway?â he demanded.
Tony sighed and opened the door wide for Gibbs to enter. Gibbs took one look at the half empty bottle of vodka on the table and his jaw tightened. Tony was momentarily fascinated by the vein pulsing angrily in Gibbsâs neck.
âYou drink all that tonight, DiNozzo?â
âMe? Nope.â Tony shook his head. âHad company.â He nodded at the two glasses on the table.
âYou seem pretty damn drunk to me.â Gibbs leaned over and sniffed at him suspiciously.
âI am. Shoulder hurts. Liquor dulls the pain,â Tony said, staggering over to the couch and falling down on it.
Gibbs sighed and sat down opposite him, on the armchair Jeff had recently vacated.
âDonât think I havenât noticed, Tony,â Gibbs said quietly.
âNoticed what, Boss?â Tony asked innocently.
âYour damn drinking, Tony! Turned a blind eye to it last year, figured you were havinâ trouble getting over Jennyâs death. Thought youâd pull yourself around, get a handle on it.â
Tony gazed at him solemnly.
âBut this year itâs gotten even worse. Ever since we pulled Ziva out of Africa youâve been a mess. Do you think Iâm an idiot, DiNozzo? Do you think I donât know that when you're acting like an idiot, and missing things at crime scenes, itâs because youâre half cut? Your judgement is shot to pieces these days, and youâre pissing everyone off.â
âI always did piss everyone off, Boss.â
âYeah, but you used to be damn good at your job too, thatâs why I kept you on the team. Nowadays youâre barely fit to walk around the squad room unsupervised, let alone carry a gun! I canât keep cutting you all this slack, Tony.â
âYouâve been cutting me slack?â Tony blinked. âSorry, must have missed you doing that, Boss.â
âTony, I should have hauled you into the elevator months ago and told you to get your act together. Never thought itâd go this far.â
âWhat do you mean?â Tony felt himself going very still.
âIâm going to ask you an honest question, and I want an honest answer,â Gibbs told him grimly.
âSure. Yeah. Okay.â Tony reached for the glass of vodka on the table; Jeffâs glass was still half full. âOw!â he complained, as his wrist was grabbed and held in a vice-like grip.
âYouâve had enough,â Gibbs growled. Tony made a face and allowed Gibbs to take the glass of vodka from his hand and replace it on the coffee table.
âYouâre right. Iâve drunk too much tonight,â he slurred. Then he blinked. âDid you say youâre gonna ask me a question?â
âYes.â Gibbsâs blue eyes were suddenly very close. They swam in and out of focus in front of him. âWere you drunk in that barn yesterday, Tony? Was that why you threw up when we got there? Is that why you hesitated before shooting Collins? Because you couldnât get a good fix on him âcause you were too drunk to see straight?â
âYouâd smell it on me if I was drunk on duty, Boss,â Tony said solemnly.
âYouâve been wearing a really stinky eau de cologne lately, Tony.â
âOh. Yeah. Right.â Tony made a face.
âDid you screw up the shot because you were drunk, Tony?â Gibbs asked quietly. âIs that what happened?â
Tony gazed at him for a long time. âYes,â he said at last. âI was drunk. Hand was shaking. Thought I might miss...did miss. Sorry, Boss.â He dropped his head and gazed at the coffee table.
Gibbs got up. He removed the vodka bottle and glasses, and Tony heard him going into the kitchen. Gibbs returned with a trash bag. He went over to Tonyâs wet bar and cleared it out.
âGet help, DiNozzo,â he ordered. âYouâre not coming back onto my team until I know I can trust you 100% in the field. Youâre a danger to yourself and to the team while youâre like this. You got yourself shot yesterday because you werenât fit for duty, and we all could have died because of you.â
Tony looked up at him. âI know.â He nodded slowly. âI know, Boss. I know.â
âYouâve got a problem. Deal with it.â Gibbs gave him one last glare, and then he turned and left, taking the contents of Tonyâs wet bar with him.
~*~
Dr. Farley was looking at him thoughtfully. âAre you an alcoholic, Tony? Is that what youâre telling me?â
âHey, itâs not my fault!â Tony protested. âItâs genetic. My dadâs an alcoholic, and so was my grand-daddy. It runs in the family, same as green eyes and a way with the ladies.â He winked at the psychiatrist.
âI always knew itâd get me too, one day. Too many strikes against me; do you know the percentage of cops with a drinking problem? Itâs high.â
âWhy didnât you want Gibbs knowing about Jeff?â Farley asked.
Tony sighed. âItâs a one bedroom apartment. Jeff sleeps on the couch, but I figured Gibbs would jump to the same conclusion about Jeff that you just did. Last thing I need is Gibbs thinking Iâm gay. He already thinks Iâm a total screw up; I do not need my butch, Marine boss thinking I play for the other team.â
âIt matters a lot to you what Gibbs thinks, doesnât it?â Farley mused.
âWell, like I told you, heâs dad.â Tony shrugged.
âNo, he isnât.â
Tony looked up, surprised. One of Farleyâs eyebrows was raised again.
âWeâre running out of time now, but tomorrow I think we should talk about your father, Tony. Your actual father.â
~*~
âHey, Tony, how did it go?â Jeff asked him when he got home.
âTerrible.â Tony made a face. He headed straight for the fridge and pulled out a beer. âWhy are you sitting in the kitchen?â
âI like it in here.â Jeff grinned at him. âYour knives need sharpening.â He nodded his head at the kitchen drawer.
âTrust you to notice.â
âWhy was it so terrible?â
âHmm?â Tony took a deep gulp of beer. Damn he was glad that Gibbs hadnât cleared out his fridge as well as his wet bar when heâd made off with his liquor.
âThe session with the shrink? What happened?â Jeff asked. Tony shrugged.
âHeâs sharp. He figured out all kinds of stuff that I didnât think Iâd told him.â
âBut notâŚ?â
âNo.â Tony shook his head.
âGood.â Jeff nodded approvingly. âIâve seen lots of shrinks, Tony. Theyâre not very nice people. You canât trust them.â
âIn your case, I can imagine they had enough material for an entire symposium.â Tony grinned at him, and Jeff made a face.
âBe nice, Tony. When are you going back to see this guy again?â
âTomorrow.â Tony gave a theatrical shudder. âHe wants me to talk about my father.â He could have kicked himself when he saw the blood drain from Jeffâs face. âHey, itâs okay,â Tony said hurriedly. âItâs fine. Itâs not like it was for you. My family was screwed up in a whole other way!â
âI know. You told me. I justâŚI donât like to think of you going through that, Tony. It sucks.â
âIâll be fine, but thanks for caring.â Tony tousled Jeffâs hair affectionately.
âOh! Someone called for you.â Jeff pointed at the answering machine. Tony felt himself brightening.
âReally? Who?â
âI donât know. I wasnât listening.â Jeff shrugged. Tony slapped the back of his head, and Jeff grinned at him. Tony went over to the answering machine and pressed the play button.
âHey, Buddy! Itâs Ryan. Look, itâs been ages since I heard from you, and I was wondering if you had any plans to head up this way? Give me a call.â
âWho was that, Tony?â
âWhat? Oh, old frat brother.â Tony stared at the answering machine glumly.
âProblem?â Jeff asked. Tony plastered on a bright smile and shook his head.
âNah.â
âHello! This is me youâre talking to, Tony,â Jeff told him, rolling his eyes.
âOh. Right. Yeah.â Tony took a gulp of his beer. âJust thought someone from work might have called, thatâs all. Tim maybe. I havenât been in the office all week. JustâŚyou know. But theyâre probably busy. Expect Gibbs is working them into the ground, as usual.â
âOr maybe they just donât care,â Jeff said. Tony looked up at him sharply. âJust saying.â Jeff shrugged. âWhy Tim in particular?â
âJustâŚwhen he was in trouble this one time, when he shot a cop and was on the verge of throwing his career awayâŚI went to his place. Tried to talk him out of it. Told him about the first time I shot someone; how I peed my pants.â
âYou never told me that story.â Jeff pouted.
âWell you donât like hearing the stories where Iâve shot someone,â Tony pointed out.
âThatâs true.â Jeff sighed. âSo, what happened when you went around to Timâs place that time?â
âNothing much. I wanted to take him out clubbing, get him out of his funk, but he wasnât up for it, so I spent half the night there, just talking. And eating his ice-cream.â Tony grinned.
âAnd you thought he might do the same for you, now that youâre in trouble?â Jeff asked.
âYeah.â Tony took another swig of his beer. âDoesnât matter.â
âGibbs probably didnât tell them aboutâŚâ Jeff gestured with his head at the beer bottle. âYou know, the alcohol thing.â
âYouâre right. He probably didnât.â Tony shrugged. âBut they definitely all know I damn well got shot!â
âWell, Iâm here,â Jeff said softly.
âYeah.â Tony sighed. âYouâre the best damn friend I ever had, Jeff!â Jeffâs face broke into a pathetically happy smile. Tony slapped the back of his head again. âCâmon, letâs go watch Tony Curtis in âSome Like it Hotâ.â
~*~
Tony was relieved to get a good nightâs sleep. He needed it; he had to be on top of his game when he met with Farley today. That guy was sharp, sharper than heâd expected. Tony had worn jeans yesterday, but today he put on a suit. It was too fiddly for him to knot a tie with his wounded shoulder, but he felt better wearing a suit; more alert and businesslike.
Jeff was drowsing on the couch as he walked through the living room on his way to the front door. Jeff half sat up, his hair sticking up messily.
âGood luck! Donât let the bastard get inside your head, Tony!â
Tony grinned. âHey, youâre talking to the great Tony DiNozzo here. Nobody gets inside my head, Jeff.â
âNot even me?â Jeff reached for his glasses and shoved them sleepily onto his nose.
âWell, youâre different.â Tony shrugged. âSee you later, Jeff. Be good while Iâm gone. Oh, and donât touch the kitchen knives!â
âAw. Spoilsport.â Jeff made a face, and Tony laughed out loud as he reached for his keys and left the apartment.
Dr. Farley looked as self-contained as he had the previous day. He was wearing an old grey cardigan buttoned up over his substantial girth.
âAnyone ever tell you that you have really lousy taste in clothes, Doc?â Tony asked, as he took his seat opposite the psychiatrist.
Dr. Farley smiled and gazed pointedly at Tonyâs suit. âI see youâve really dressed up today, Tony.â
âYeah, you should let me take you out shopping sometime. Buy you some designer clothes. You look like you havenât bought anything new in years. I know all the best places to go. Okay, we might have to shop around; youâre not a very standard shape. In fact, youâre not exactly in shape at all.â He gazed just as pointedly at Farleyâs fat belly. âMight be hard to find clothes that will fit you, but if you dressed better that gut wouldnât look so huge.â
âI feel comfortable in these clothes, Tony,â Farley replied. âAnd in my own skin.â He patted his large belly happily. âIâm fat.â He gave a little laugh. âI donât need to dress it up as something it isnât. Iâm at peace with who I am. Are you?â
Tony leaned back in his armchair. âTotally.â
âGood.â Farley gave a little nod. âThatâs good, Tony. So, yesterday we were talking about family, and I suggested you might want to tell me about your father.â
âSure.â Tony shrugged. âLetâs skip straight to the juicy stuff, as I bet thatâs the stuff you want to hear. Dad and me have never been close. He and my mom both drank like fishes. Like I said yesterday, Dad was an alcoholic. I had to fix him a drink and give him a report of my day every evening when he got home from work. That was the only time we used to talk when he was actually sober. After that he and my mom would drink the night away.â
âDid you have any siblings?â Farley asked.
âNo, but you know that. You have my file.â
âYour parents were wealthy?â
âYeah, my dadâs dad started a trucking business years ago. By the time my dad and his brother inherited it, the company was huge. We had money coming out of our ears. â
âWere you close to your mom?â
âNot really.â Tony shrugged again. âShe was kind of a socialite. A lady who lunches. She liked going out, showing off, being charming. People always say Iâm a lot like her.â He gave a self-deprecating grin.
âI see from your file that she died when you were twelve. That must have been tough.â Farleyâs brown eyes were sympathetic.
âIt was sad, yeah, but we werenât close. I was at boarding school by then anyway, hadnât seen her for awhile so it didnât reallyâŚI know this sounds bad, because she was my mom, but she wasnât part of my day to day life so it didnât really affect me much.â
âSo you werenât close to your dad or your mom? And youâre an only child,â Farley mused. âSounds very lonely, Tony.â
Tony gazed at him stonily. âIt was fine. I watched a lot of TV, and we had nice staff. The housekeeper, the gardener; I hung out with them a lot.â
âDid they have any kids? Anyone for you to play with?â
âNo. Why the hell is that important?â
Dr. Farley looked surprised by his tone. âWell, all children need playmates. Some only children invent them if there arenât any around.â
Tony laughed out loud. âYouâre asking me if I ever had any imaginary friends, Doc?â
âDid you?â
Tonyâs jaw tightened. âNo. Look, what the hell has this got to do with me being shot?â
Farley gazed at him impassively from those deep brown eyes of his, as if he knew some great big secret that Tony didnât. It bugged the hell out of him.
âYou were a lonely child, Tony, without a strong family dynamic. It makes sense that you would seek to find family structures in your working life, to give yourself that feeling of security and unconditional love that you didnât get in your childhood. Itâs understandable that you would cast your team in the role of family, even assign them individual roles within that family.â
âUhâŚokay.â Tony made a face. âSee, itâs stuff like this that gives shrinks a bad name. Next youâll be telling me I want to kill my father and marry my mother.â
âHmm.â Farley gave a little chuckle, as if at some private in-joke.
âWhat?â Tony asked, exasperated.
âWell, I was just thinking youâve cast Agent Gibbs as the father in this little family dynamic you're created, and you do have a lot of unexpressed anger towards him. And the other day your inaction in that barn did almost lead to him being killed, soâŚâ
âThatâs ridiculous!â Tony protested. âIâm not angry with Gibbs. Why the hell would you think Iâm angry with Gibbs?â
âI donât know. Why donât you tell me?â Farley asked infuriatingly.
âLook, I donât really view Gibbs as a father. Heâs only twelve years older than me so unless he was a very precocious kid, he definitely isnât old enough to be my dad. I just threw that whole stupid family thing at you to distract you from what I didnât want to talk about yesterday.â
âWhich was?â
âYou know, being an alcoholic.â Tony made a face. âThatâs not an easy thing to admit, Doc.â
âBut youâd already admitted it to Gibbs. Why was it so hard to admit it to me?â
âBecause youâre a shrink! It isnât easy. None of this is easy!â Tony protested. âAlso, when I admitted it to Gibbs I was drunk. Now Iâm not.â
âYou werenât drunk that day in the barn when you couldnât shoot Collins, either,â Farley said quietly.
âWhat?â Tony jerked his head up.
âWhen you went to the hospital, they took your blood; standard medical procedure. I looked at your medical file; there was no alcohol in your blood that day. You werenât drunk on duty, Tony. That was a lie. You lied to Gibbs, and you lied to me. The question is - why?â
Tony gazed at him, stunned. Then he laughed out loud. âI underestimated you, Dr. Farley.â
âI imagine that itâs usually the other way around, and people underestimate you, Tony,â Farley replied, with a tight little smile.
âI do my best to make them think Iâm an idiot, yes,â Tony admitted. âIt works. Iâve caught plenty of bad guys that way. I like being under-estimated. Donât usually make the mistake of doing it with other people. My bad. But youâre good, Doc. Really good. Iâm impressed.â
âMmmm. Weâre drifting away from the point here, Tony.â
âWhich is?â Tony raised an eyebrow, feeling his stomach clench.
âWhy would you prefer your boss and your psychiatrist to think youâre an alcoholic when youâre not? What must the truth be, if thatâs the lie youâve chosen to hide it behind, Tony?â
~*~
âWhat happened?â Jeff asked, the minute he walked through the door. âSomething happened. Something bad.â
âNot bad. JustâŚâ Tony sat down on the couch wearily. Jeff sat down next to him, looking scared. âHe finds things in what Iâve said that I didnât think were there. I thought heâd buy the whole alcoholic thing yâknow; I thought shrinks loved that kind of stuff, but he didnât.â
âDid he ask you about your father?â Jeff asked anxiously.
âYeah, but he wasnât all that interested in that, either. I thought weâd be on safe ground there.â Tony gave a twisted little grin. âI thought heâd go on and on about my alcoholic dad, and my dead mom, but he seems more interested in the here and now.â
He got up and went into the kitchen to get a beer. Jeff was still sitting on the couch when he returned to the living room. Tony ignored him and turned on the TV.
âDonât shut me out, Tony,â Jeff said softly.
âIâm not. I justâŚFarley really made me think.â
âYou promised me you wouldnât let him get inside your head,â Jeff chided.
âI knowâŚbut, maybe he has a point.â Tony flicked through the TV channels aimlessly, looking for something to watch. âMaybeâŚmaybe I should stop trying to play him, Jeff. Maybe he actually has some answers.â
âYou donât want answers,â Jeff pointed out. âIsnât that what youâve been saying to me over and over again for the past year?â
Tony paused and gazed into mid-air for a long while, thinking about it.
âI didnât want answers, Jeff, but a few days ago I couldnât pull the trigger on my gun, and people could have been killed because of that. Hell, I nearly got myself killed.â He could feel the dull, throbbing ache in his shoulder. Heâd deliberately not taken any painkillers before going to see Farley; heâd wanted to keep all his wits about him. Even so, the shrink still seemed to be able to run rings around him. Tony turned to Jeff. âThat changed everything, Jeff,â he said quietly. âFor as long as I keep on avoiding those answers, then Iâm dangerous. Iâm a danger to myself and everyone around me. Damn it,â he swore softly under his breath.
âWhat?â
Tony gave an amused little grunt. âJust something Farley said to me the first time I met him. I didnât realise what the hell he meant then, but I do now. He said it within a couple of minutes of meeting me; damn it, heâs good. â
âLucky guess,â Jeff said dismissively.
âNo.â Tony shook his head. âSee, when he said it, I just thought it was the usual blah blah psychobabble you could expect from a shrink, but he was right. I do think Iâm dangerous. I *am* dangerous.â
âIâve always known that,â Jeff said tightly.
Tony grinned at him. âYeah, sorry about that, buddy.â
âDonât go back there, Tony,â Jeff said, in an imploring tone. âPlease, Tony, donât go back to see Dr. Farley. I have this really bad feeling about what will happen if you do.â
Tony shook his head. âSorry, Jeff. I think this is something I have to do. Iâm not gonna play this guy any more; I think he really might be able to help me.â
Tony reached up a hand to absently stroke his throbbing shoulder; it was time to face the truth.
~*~
The next day, Tony got dressed in grey sweatpants, his old red Ohio State sweatshirt, and a pair of well worn sneakers. Jeff feigned sleep as Tony walked through the living room on his way to the front door.
âI know youâre awake,â Tony told him, reaching for his keys.
âGo away,â Jeff huffed into his blanket.
âOkay. See you later, buddy,â Tony replied with a shrug.
Farley was wearing the nasty green cardigan again.
âYâknow, thatâs really not a great shade on you,â Tony told him.
âI know, but I like it. My grandmother knitted it for me.â
âReally? Does she hate you?â
Farley gave a little snort of laughter. âI donât think so. She just liked this particular shade of green for some reason. Iâd ask her, but sheâs been dead for years now.â
âSo familyâs important to you too, huh?â Tony asked softly.
âFamilyâs important to most people, on some level, Tony.â He looked at Tony keenly. âYouâve had a change of heart I think, Tony?â
âYes.â Tony took his seat with a weary sigh. âJeff didnât want me to come,â he said.
âNo. I can imagine he didnât.â Dr. Farley rested his hands on his ample belly.
âYou know who he is, donât you?â
âIâve got a good idea. Do you want to talk about him?â
âNot really. Heâs not important. Shit, heâd hate it if he heard me say that. Look, I can handle Jeff. Heâs not the problem.â
âOkay.â Dr. Farley nodded patiently. âWhat is the problem, Tony? Whatâs eating away at you? Something is.â
âWhen I first came to NCIS, I thought Iâd finally found a place where I belonged,â Tony said quietly. âIâd been looking for that place my entire life. Never found it. Had a good time at various boarding schools, had a good time at college and in various police departments, but it was never what I was looking for, yâknow? So I just kept moving on, still looking. And then I found Gibbs.â
âAgent Gibbs is a very striking and forceful personality,â Farley commented. âI can imagine a lot of people find him hard to work for, but I expect you were drawn to his strength of character and certainty, Tony.â
âYeah. Then there was the whole Marine thing, the âsemper fiâ, the sense of loyalty. I knew that however much he kicked my ass heâd never leave me behind. Heâd go to the wall for me. I trusted him.â
âHe was the kind of strong, masculine role model your father was not.â
âYes.â Tony nodded. âAnd I hero-worshipped him. I never viewed him as my actual dad, Doc; he was better than that.â
âAnd when Abby spoke of you all being a family, something fell into place for you; youâd finally found somewhere you belonged. You even carved out a role for yourself. What was it? Annoying big brother?â
âYeah.â Tony grinned. âIf the shoe fitsâŚâ
âBut this new family of yours were also your co-workers - and working with family can be particularly tough,â Farley pointed out.
Tony snorted. âTell me about it! My father and his brother fought for years over the family business. Got to the point where they only communicated through me and my cousin Petey.â
âSo you know all about the jealousies and sibling rivalries that can surface when you work with family.â
Tony grinned. âWell, I figured thatâs why we always bickered so much.â His grin faded. âFor the first couple of years it was good. I loved my job. I loved the people I worked with. I had my whole life ahead of me, and it was fun. Then it seemedâŚthe more I found myself, the more I lost myself.â
Farley frowned. âCan you explain that, Tony?â
âKate died. Looking back, I think thatâs when it first started to go wrong.â
âWell, losing a family member is always traumatic.â
âGibbs shut down. Ziva arrived. She was Ariâs half sister. He was the guy who shot Kate, and Ziva was there to protect Ari in the beginning. Maybe I always resented her a little for that. But, you know, she was hot, soâŚâ Tony shrugged and grinned. âIt was Jenny - Director Shepard - who put her on our team, but it was Gibbs who made her family. Gibbs trusted her, so I trusted her. Gibbs has these famous gut instincts.â
âAnd Gibbs wouldnât bring anyone into the family that you couldnât trust, would he?â Farley asked.
Tony felt his jaw tighten. âNo,â he said quietly. âGibbs wouldnât do that. Then we lost Paula and Jenny and LeeâŚand it felt like we kept losing people. And I fell in love with my undercover mark, which was so fucked up of me - and of course I lost her too.â
âDid you lose her? Or did you let her go?â Farley asked.
Tony gazed into the distance for a moment. âI chose my family over her,â he said eventually. âI chose the fucked up, pseudo-family Iâd invented in my head over a real life, flesh and blood woman who actually wanted me. But...see, thing is, she wanted Tony DiNardo, my undercover identity, and not me. â
âSo the pseudo-family was still a better option than the pseudo-relationship?â
âI guess so. Yes.â Tony gazed at the psychiatrist bleakly. âBut it didnât feel the same any more.â
âYou kept on hanging in there, playing the annoying big brother role to the hilt, trying to keep everything the same, even when it felt like everything kept changing,â Farley said softly.
âYes. Thing is, the role felt off. I kept trying to play it, but it got harder and harder. I could still play the role - could play it in my sleep - but I wasnât feeling it anymore, yâknow?â
âIt felt more and more like a character you were playing, and less and less like you?â
âYeah. So I ramped it up; annoyed them even more and made more of an idiot of myself than usual.â Tony winced. âI guess that must have been kind of painful to watch. No wonder Gibbs thought I was an alcoholic. I wasnât even particularly good at my job any more, only in flashes. Then one day I realised that it was all slipping away from me. Everybody was changing; McGee was a big boy now; he didnât need me to toughen him up anymore. Gibbs didnât trust us enough to keep us in the loop about the Domino mission; and Ziva preferred her Mossad family to us. I didnât even get to see as much of Abby and Ducky as I once did. We just didnât feel like a team anymore.â
âWhen did you realise that?â
Tony took a deep breath. âWe thought Ziva was dead - and that was at least partly my fault. Iâd killed her boyfriend; okay so I was just doing my job, and he had killed a federal agent, and he did attack me, but even so.â Tony shrugged. âShe hated me for it. She knocked me to the ground ��" I had a broken arm at the time and man that hurt.â He made a face. âShe pulled a gun on me andâŚâ
âThis isnât in your file,â Farley interrupted him, frowning.
âI never told anyone.â Tony shrugged. âWasnât important.â
âIt sounds very important. Do you think itâs okay that she did that?â Farley asked gently.
âShe was upset. See, thing is, Doc, I donât have much experience of families. I figured - maybe this is what families do?â
âOnly abusive families, Tony,â Farley commented wryly. âAnd I think you didnât tell anyone because you know that, deep inside.â
Tony bit on his lip. âMaybe. Anyway, she left as a direct result of that, and then later we thought sheâd died. I kind of fell apart. Another one lost. I wasnât doing a very good job of protecting my family, Doc. And I couldnât forget the look of hatred in her eyes when she pulled that gun on me. Whatever Iâve done wrong, and however much Iâve annoyed them, Iâve always tried my best to keep them all safe.â
âI can see several instances of bravery in your file; it seems that where your team family is concerned, you always put their safety and wellbeing above your own,â Farley commented, flicking through the file. âSaving Todd and McGee from a car bomb, rescuing Gibbs when he was trapped underwater in a car, retrieving Ziva from AfricaâŚâ
âSemper fi,â Tony muttered. âThought I couldnât live without them, Doc. Needed them. Needed them to need me.â
âWell, they were this little idealised family youâd created in your head. They were the place you belonged. Where would you belong if they died? What would you be? WHO would you be?â Farley asked.
Tony swallowed hard.
âWhat happened in the barn, Tony?â Farley asked unexpectedly.
~*~
Tony was irritable. Heâd done all the digging on Collins; hours and hours of old-fashioned police work. He was still good for that at least, even if he was a screw-up most of the rest of the time. Now he had a hunch as to the possible location of the guyâs hideout, and Ziva was rolling her eyes, and McGee was pointing out that it was a long way to go just on a *hunch*.
âItâs not as if youâre Gibbs, Tony. Why should we listen to *your* gut?â
âTalking of Tonyâs gut; have you been over-feeding it these days, Tony?â Ziva poked a sly finger into the roll of flesh around his midriff.
âHey!â Tony complained, pushing her away.
âToo many donuts I think.â Ziva winked at him.
Tony had a sudden, weary sense of dĂŠjĂ vu. Another day, another squabble in the squad room. Every day, day in day out, always the same.
At that moment, Gibbs swept into the room.
âTony has had lunch,â Ziva told him. Gibbs raised a quizzical eyebrow. âOh, I am sorry, I mean a *hunch*. Tony has had a hunch.â Ziva grinned, glancing pointedly at Tonyâs belly all the same. Tony squeezed it surreptitiously. He didnât think heâd put on *that* much weight recently.
Gibbs listened to his hunch without speaking. âWe got any other leads?â he grunted when Tony was done. The team shook their heads. âThen I guess weâll have to follow DiNozzoâs hunch if thatâs the best youâve come up with.â
So they had. Ziva had claimed the passenger seat, next to Gibbs, much to Tonyâs annoyance. Ever since theyâd rescued her from Africa, she and Gibbs seemed to have some special thing going. He had no idea what it was. Tony sat in the back, getting more and more car sick as the journey progressed. Beside him, McGee was snarking about something, and Ziva was snarking back, and Gibbs was saying nothing as usual, and Tony wanted to scream at them all to shut the fuck up, which was strange because usually it was him who talked too much.
McGeeâs comment about Gibbsâs gut was bothering him, and he wasnât sure why. It just kept going round and round in his head. By the time they reached the location of Collinsâs hideout, his head hurt almost as much as his stomach. He rolled out of the car and was immediately sick on the grass.
Gibbs stood over him, looking faintly pissed off, in the way only Gibbs could. There was something in his eyes, something disappointed andâŚdisgusted? Tony glanced up at him in surprise. Gibbs didnât think he was drunk did he? He was never drunk on duty.
âWeâll go check out the barn, DiNozzo,â Gibbs said, in a tight voice, as if he already thought it was a complete waste of time. Tony couldnât blame him for that. His job performance hadnât exactly been stellar of late, and Gibbs was right - it probably *was* a giant waste of time.
âLike I said, too many donuts,â Ziva commented, looking down on the mess heâd spewed on the ground.
âYou should take a leaf out of my book, Tony,â McGee said smugly, patting his trim, washboard stomach. âI gave up all that junk months ago. Never felt better.â
Tony was about to make a snarky retort when he felt another wave of nausea and threw up again. When he next looked up, theyâd gone.
He sat beside the car for awhile and then opened it and found a bottle of water in the glove compartment. He swilled it around his mouth and spat it out to get rid of the taste of vomit and then drank it all down. He started to feel better and wondered where his team were. Theyâd been gone longer than heâd expected. He realised that he had as little faith in his âhunchâ as they did. Heâd expected them to go into the barn, take a cursory look around, and come back out again empty-handed.
He saw a rickety wooden staircase on the outside of the barn and decided to go take a look. If his team were in trouble then theyâd need himâŚand he always looked out for his team.
He climbed to the upper level of the barn, opened an old wooden door, and slipped silently into the interior. He could hear raised voices; that didnât sound good. He got down on his belly and slid towards the edge of the wooden gallery platform he was on.
His breath caught in his throat. Beneath him, his team was being held captive by the psycho bastard theyâd been tracking.
He raised his gun. Gibbs was talking to the guy, trying to calm him down, but Collins was freaking out all over the place, and he was brandishing a giant machine gun. Gibbs glanced over Collinsâs shoulder and saw Tony. He gave him a tiny nod, implicitly ordering him to fire.
Tony raised his gun, aware that if he got this wrong his entire team could be killed.
~*~
Tony paused, staring into space.
âHow did that make you feel, Tony?â Farley asked. âYour entire team could be killed if you got this wrong. You said before that you pictured them as bodies on Duckyâs autopsy table. How did that make you feel?â
Tony clenched his fists.
âTony?â
âRelieved,â Tony said softly. He looked at Farley defiantly. âThere, Iâve damn well said it. I felt relieved, Doc! I felt like some great weight had been lifted from me. If they werenât there anymore Iâd be free. I wouldnât have to go into work every day and play a role any more.â
He got up and paced around the room.
âYou asked me who Iâd be if I wasnât defined by them, and the truth is, I donât know, but at least Iâd be free to find out. Iâm so tired of it, Doc - Iâm so tired of them. Iâm sick to death of being their whipping boy. I always thought they *knew* that I only played at being an idiot - for fun, for attention, to keep people out as you said - all those things, but at some point they started to believe that the idiot was me. And I was too tired and pissed off by then to care. You knew, Doc. You saw through me the minute I walked through that door, but my team, my *family* - they long ago stopped seeing who I really am.â
He paused and gazed out of the window. âIt hurt, I guess. It hurt, and I kept on covering up that hurt like it didnât matter. I thought they knew that what I do is more important that what I say, and I thought they remembered how often Iâd taken one for the teamâŚbut the truth is, I donât think they do.â
He turned back to Farley. âAnd I canât say I blame them.â He gave a little shrug. âI can be over the top and inappropriateâŚIâm not blameless in this, Doc. I played my part in it for far too long. And as I was lying there in that barn, gun raised, I realised what a low fucking opinion they all have of me. Ziva thinks Iâm an annoying bug - she doesnât respect me and never has; McGee knows heâs ten times smarter than me and canât wait for the day heâs promoted over my head; and GibbsâŚwell, at best Gibbs thinks I'm a total screw-up and at worst he thinks Iâm a fucking alcoholic. And all I could think about was how free I would feel if they werenât around any more.â
âYou didnât really want them to die though.â
âOf course not!â Tony gazed at the psychiatrist moodily. âI didnât want them dead - I was just stunned by my reaction to the thought of it. It took me by surprise. Thatâs why I hesitated, and thatâs why my hand was shaking and the sweat was pouring into my eyes. I was shocked that I felt that way. I had no idea. And I was ashamed of myself for it. No wonder I fucking missed when I did eventually shoot.â
âMaybe that wasnât a mistake,â Farley said. Tony raised an eyebrow. âYou knew that if you missed, Collins would turn and fire on you. In your mind, youâd just betrayed your family, Tony. Maybe you felt that you deserved to die.â
Tony went back over to his chair and sat down again.
âMaybe. I donât know. I was too fucked up by that point to know anything. All I could think about was that feeling of overwhelming relief when I thought they wouldnât be in my life anymore. I wouldnât have to protect them anymore, I wouldnât have to care about them anymore, and I wouldnât have to see them ever again.â Tony bowed his head. âAm I allowed to feel that way about family, Doc?â
Farley sighed. âFamilies can be wonderful things; they can give love, protection and nurturing, and they can help us to fulfil our potential. But they can also be stifling, Tony, and the roles they impose upon us can be restrictive. We can, quite simply, outgrow them. Most of us learn this when weâre young adults, but you had absent, neglectful parents and were sent to a series of boarding schools. You never had a chance to learn how to safely separate out from your family and find your own identity. You never even knew it was an option. You mentioned the Oedipus myth yesterday, Tony.â
Tony looked up questioningly.
âIn psychological terms, that myth can be read on many different levels ��" killing oneâs father, marrying oneâs mother. On one level, it can simply be a boyâs natural urge to become his own person as he grows up ��" to defy his father, form his own opinions, move outside the remit of his fatherâs control, take his own choice of sexual partner and so on.â
âIt was just one tiny, shocking moment. I honestly didnât want them dead,â Tony said softly. âI donât want Gibbs dead.â
âNo. But youâre angry with him all the same, arenât you, Tony? You gave up a promotion out of loyalty to him, and your career has gone nowhere since. You led that team once, but he doesnât let you into his confidence. He doesnât treat you like a peer, so you donât behave like one. He hasnât let you grow, Tony, and you feel like youâre being stuffed into a box that isnât big enough for you any more. You want to be let out, but you donât know how to ask because heâs Gibbs, the man youâve hero-worshipped for so long. You feel disloyal even thinking about it.â
Tony felt as if someone had broken him in two. âYes,â he said at last, so quietly he barely heard himself.
âYou mentioned being irritated by McGeeâs comment about Gibbsâs gut,â Farley reminded him. âWhy was that?â
Tony pushed away the denial that was ready to spring to his lips; heâd come this far. âI donât believe in Gibbsâs gut any more, Doc,â he said quietly. âChrist, feels like sacrilege to even say it. But I donât. HeâŚI think he's made mistakes. More than one - and one very big one. Mistakes that could have cost us our lives.â
âMaybe he did. We all eventually have to learn that our fathers arenât infallible, Tony. Theyâre only human. It might seem like they have superhero powers.â Farley gave a little grin. âBut they donât. They make mistakes, just like the rest of us.â
âButâŚâ Tony shook his head. âIf I donât believe in Gibbs, then what do I believe in?â
âYourself?â Farley suggested.
They were quiet for a long time.
âDo you want to talk about it?â Farley asked eventually.
Tony sighed. âYes, but not with you. I know what I have to do now.â Farley raised an eyebrow. âYou said something about growing up, separating out from your family, moving on?â Tony shrugged. âI think itâs time for big brother to leave home, donât you?â
Farley smiled. âI think itâs past time, Tony.â
Tony got up, feeling apprehensive but strangely euphoric all the same. He held out his good hand to the psychiatrist.
âWell, thanks. Simon.â He gave a little grin.
Farley took his hand and gave it a firm shake. âYouâre welcome, Special Agent DiNozzo.â
~*~
Tony was surprised he didnât feel nervous when he went into the office the next day. He stopped in front of Gibbsâs desk.
âCan I speak to you, Boss? In private?â he requested politely.
Gibbs gave him a searching look and then nodded curtly. Tony led the way to the conference room without saying a word. He shut the door behind them and sat down at the table opposite Gibbs.
âHow are you doing, Tony? Howâs the shoulder?â Gibbs asked.
âItâs fine. Getting there.â Tony reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. He pushed it across the table. âBefore you open it, I want to say Iâm sorry. Oh, not about whatâs in the envelope. Iâm sorry because I lied to you. And yes, I know how you feel about apologies, but this one is important.â
Gibbs frowned at him. âYou lied to me?â
âYes. I wasnât drunk that day in the barn. For the record, Iâve never been drunk on duty. All those times I behaved like an idiot, I did it stone cold sober.â Tony made a face. âI donât blame you for jumping to the wrong conclusion there, Boss.â
Gibbs didnât touch the envelope. He sat back in his chair and gazed at Tony speculatively.
âOh, Iâm not just saying that to get myself off the hook,â Tony said hurriedly. âIâm not in denial about being an alcoholic. Sure, I like a drink, and sometimes I drink too much, like that night you came around after I discharged myself from the hospital. But you like a drink too, Boss. You like your bourbon, and you canât tell me you havenât sometimes drunk yourself into oblivion under that boat of yours. In our job it kind of goes with the territory, doesnât it?â
Gibbs grunted an acknowledgement. âBut if you werenât drunkâŚ?â
âI know, whatâs with the funky cologne?â Tony laughed. âWhat can I say? Itâs the new Calvin Klein, and Iâm a sucker for designer labels, Boss.â
Gibbs glared at him. âThat wasnât what I was going to ask.â
âI know. You were going to ask why I hesitated before taking that shot in the barn. Iâm not going to answer that question, Boss, but if you doubt me about the drinking, just check my medical records. There was no alcohol in my blood the day I got shot.â
Gibbs nodded. âOkay. I believe you.â He reached across the table for the envelope, but Tony put out a hand and stopped him.
âNot yet. Wait âtil Iâm done.â Gibbs gazed at him questioningly. âI need you to understand why first.â
âOkay.â A flash of something passed through Gibbsâs eyes. Tony wondered if he knew where this was going.
âYou made a mistake not trusting me over the Domino mission, Boss.â Gibbs opened his mouth to say something, but Tony interrupted him. âFeels like the whole of the last year has been about distrust, Gibbs: Moles, spies, lies ��" trust, distrust - thought you knew you could always trust me though, Boss.â
âI do, Tony. I always have.â
âWell, it sure as hell didnât feel like it after the Domino mission.â
âI made a judgement call on that occasion. Thought it was for the best,â Gibbs said with an impatient shake of his head.
âYeah, well, I know itâs not easy being the leader,â Tony continued. âThat whole fiasco with Renny last year showed me that. I know you canât keep everyone happy, and I know youâre sometimes going to make mistakes. I donât blame you for that. Thatâs not why Iâm doing this. I need you to know that, Boss.â
âOkay.â Gibbs nodded slowly. He sat back in his chair. âHavenât seen you like this in a long time, Tony, not since the early days.â
âI know, and thatâs my fault. I forgot who I was, Gibbs, and then you forgot too, and I was too stupid and too fucked up to remind you.â
âYouâre reminding me now, Tony.â
âNo, Iâm explaining now, Gibbs. See, when we went out to Africa, I thought Ziva was dead. I thought weâd be bringing back her body at best. Then we found her, and she was still alive, and I was so damn happy and relieved about that, because I felt responsible for her leaving in the first place. Felt like her death was at least partly my fault.â
âWasnât your fault she went back to Mossad, Tony. I told you that. She gave me an ultimatumâŚâ
âMe or her. Yeah - I remember.â Tony made a face. âSo we went to Africa, and we brought her home. That was the right thing to do, and Iâll always be glad we did it.â
âBut?â Gibbs raised an eyebrow.
âBut then you made another mistake, Boss.â
Gibbsâs eyes flashed. âIs that so, DiNozzo?â
âYeah, it is, Boss. She lied to us. She betrayed us. I can forgive that, and I know you can too. Sheâs family after all. But then you let her back on the team.â
âWe need her, Tony, and, like you said, sheâs family.â
âYeah - and you were the one who brought her into this family in the first place, and I always trusted your gut on that. Always did trust that gut of yours, Boss.â
âBut not anymore?â Gibbs raised an eyebrow.
âNo, Boss. Not anymore.â
Gibbs grunted. âWanna tell me where you think I screwed up, DiNozzo?â
âYou trusted her in the first place because she killed her half brother for you. Not your fault - she played you. Then you found out that was a lie ��" sheâd been ordered to kill him to gain your trust.â
âShe explained that to me,â Gibbs growled. âAnd I believe her.â
âThatâs fine for you.â Tony shrugged. âBut itâs my life on the line out there in the field too, Boss. And McGeeâs. And Iâm not sure I want to be out there with her next time she forgets who she can trust. It hurt too much the first time around - next time it could be fatal.â
âWonât happen again,â Gibbs told him firmly.
âMaybe. And I donât mind you taking that gamble with your own life, but I donât want you taking it with mine. Sure, welcome the prodigal daughter back into the family - that's fine - but itâs not like youâre just inviting her to join us around the table for Sunday lunch. We're federal agents doing a pretty damn dangerous job. We have access to sensitive information that other countries would like to get their hands on. Help her, take care of her - sure - but don't compromise the safety of the rest of us, and the country, by bringing her back onto the team."
"She isn't a danger to the team or the damn country!" Gibbs growled.
"Your gut tell you that?"
Gibbs glared at him.
"The other night, when you came to my apartment, you told me you wouldnât let me back on the team until I sobered up. You said I was a danger to myself and everyone else - and if I *had* been drinking on duty then youâd have been right. It got me to thinking - why was I more dangerous than her? Why was my place on the team in jeopardy and hers wasnât? Had I ever betrayed the team like she did? Hadnât I proved my loyalty to you, over and over again?â
âWhat is this? Are you jealous, DiNozzo?â
âCloser to sibling rivalry.â Tony grinned. âDaddy canât afford to have favourites, Boss. I know you always have though. I know it was first Abby and now itâs Ziva. I know youâre a sucker for those daughter figures ��" especially the ones in trouble. So first she was back on the team, even though she was still holding out on you about what happened on the Damocles. And then you were endorsing her application to become an agent, and it seemed like youâd forgiven her pretty damn fast - and thatâs not like you, Boss.â
âMy team, DiNozzo. My decision.â Gibbs crossed his arms over his chest defensively.
âMy guess is that she said something to you that made you feel protective towards her. Maybe she played the daddy card on you - hate to say it, Boss, but youâre pretty predictable there. I know why, and Iâm sorry for what you lost - but Ziva isn't Kelly. And the fact you let her play you makes me wonder if I even know who you are anymore.â
âSo this is about Ziva?â Gibbs nodded his head in the direction of the envelope on the table.
âNo.â Tony grinned again. âSurprisingly, it isnât. I thought it was, because itâs been bugging me, but it isnât about Ziva at all. Itâs about me. Did you know that Jenny offered me my own team after you got back from Mexico, Gibbs?â
Gibbs looked genuinely surprised. âNo, Tony. I didnât know that.â
âI figured you didnât. I turned her down. I was worried about you, and about the team, and, if Iâm honest, I didnât want to leave any of you. You see, in my head you were my family. Now I realise I was being naive. Youâre not my family, Gibbs - youâre my colleagues.â
âTonyâŚâ
Tony put his hand up, stopping Gibbs before he had a chance to say anything more. âThanksgiving is a case in point. We didnât have plans to spend it together. We never spend Thanksgiving together. Only happened this year because we worked a case so long that all our other plans were screwed. Thatâs not being a family, Gibbs - thatâs being thrown together by circumstances.â
âTony, when you work in life and death situations like we do, it brings you close. All those Marines I fought with felt like brothers to me,â Gibbs told him firmly. âIn a way, we *are* a family.â
âAnd Iâve been trying to win daddy's love and approval for far too long,â Tony told him softly. âItâs unhealthy, Gibbs, and it has to stop. I have to make it stop.â
Gibbs stared at him for a long time, and then, finally, a look of grudging respect crept into his eyes, and he nodded.
âYou can open the envelope now.â Tony pushed it the rest of the way across the table towards him. Gibbs tore his finger through it and fished out the letter inside. He read it silently and then looked up.
âVance offer you your own team?â he asked.
âNo.â Tony shook his head. âIt'll be a cold day in hell when that ever happens. No - Iâm leaving NCIS for good.â
Gibbsâs jaw tightened. âYou gonna be a cop again?â
âNo. I have other plans.â
"Team needs you, Tony."
"I know." Tony nodded. "And not so long ago, you saying that would have been enough to make me stay. But see, thing is, Gibbs - I'm done taking one for the team."
Gibbs stood up. "*I* need you, Tony."
Tony hesitated. "If you'd treated me more like your senior field agentâŚ" he began.
"If you'd behaved more like my senior field agentâŚ" Gibbs interrupted him.
Tony grinned. "Chicken or egg, Gibbs? Which came first? I'm not laying blame ��" I figure we both screwed it up."
"When did it start going wrong for you, Tony?" Gibbs looked as if he genuinely wanted to know the answer.
"I'm not sure. When Kate died? When you came back from Mexico? Or maybe when you left in the first place. 'You'll do' is hardly a ringing endorsement."
Gibbs grunted. âIs there anything I can say to make you stay?â
âHonestly? No.â Tony shook his head. âThis isnât a cry for attention, Gibbs, although I can see why, with my history, youâd think it was.â He gave a self-deprecating smile.
Gibbs ran a hand over his chin. âGonna miss you, Tony. Team wonât be the same without you.â
âYeah.â Tony sighed. âI guess Iâm not the only one with a weakness for creating surrogate families, huh, Jethro?â
Gibbs went over to Tony and held out his hand. âGood luck, Tony,â he said softly.
Tony swallowed down the lump in his throat and pushed the hand aside. He pulled Gibbs into a hug with his good arm instead. âI wonât be coming back,â he whispered into Gibbsâs ear.
âI know that,â Gibbs replied, in a tight, muffled tone. He pulled back, and his blue eyes were glassy. âBut youâre doing the right thing. Take care, Anthony.â
~*~
He'd only been home for half an hour when there was a knock at the door. He opened it and was immediately shoved aside as Ziva stormed into the room.
"You cannot leave," she told him imperiously.
"Actually I can." He shut the door and turned to find her standing right in front of him. He took a step back and placed a protective hand on his injured arm.
"Are you afraid of me?" She looked astonished.
"Last time I had my arm in a sling and you were mad at me, I ended up on my back on the floor with a gun pressed to my chest," he said wryly. "Afraid of you? No. Cautious around you? Yes."
"I apologised for that!" she exclaimed. "Is that why you are leaving, Tony? Is it because of me?"
He laughed out loud. "Not everything is about you, Ziva, even if it does seem that way these days. No, I'm not leaving because of you."
"I do not want you to leave. I cannot let you leave." She stepped forward and took hold of his face between her hands. "Do not leave us, Tony. Please." She leaned in and kissed him gently on the mouth.
He stood there, stiff and unresponsive. She pulled back.
"See, thing is, I can't tell if you mean it," he told her softly. "Because you already played, Gibbs, Ziva."
"How did I 'play' Gibbs?" she asked, in a confused tone.
"I don't know for certain, but I'm fairly sure you pressed his daddy button. Maybe you told him he's the closest thing you have to a father now, after rejecting your own father."
"That is the truth," she whispered, looking stunned.
"Maybe it is." Tony shrugged. "The problem is that because I can't trust Gibbs's gut anymore, I have to go with my own instincts, and those veer more towards self-preservation these days. Let's just say I'm less trusting than I used to be. Lies, false accusations, betrayal - they'll do that to a guy."
She brushed a hand over her eyes and her fingers came away wet. "I made mistakes, Tony, and I have paid for those mistakes, believe me."
"I want to. But, see, there's a little voice in my head that says I'm Tony DiNozzo and everyone knows I think with my dick. If there was any way of getting to me it'd be with sex - or the promise of it. Pretty girls throwing themselves at me and kissing me - well, that's how *I* would play me."
"I am not playing you, Tony. IâŚI have feelings for you," she told him.
"And I have feelings for you," he replied. "Fucked up ones, like the feelings I have for all the team. And I may be an idiot, but Iâve always had a healthy sense of self-preservation. I'd never get involved with you, Ziva. Not in the past, present or future. That was never gonna happen."
She looked like she'd been slapped.
"Sorry." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. She stood there, as stony and unresponsive as he had been earlier. Then she gathered herself together and went towards the door.
"Goodbye, Tony," she said quietly, as she opened it.
"Goodbye, Ziva," he said quietly, as he closed it.
~*~
"So you're really going through with this?" Jeff asked as he threw a suitcase onto the bed and opened it up.
"Yes, Jeff, I'm really going through with this." Tony opened his closet and surveyed his extensive collection of clothes. "Damn, it's gonna be tough choosing what to take."
"Take everything."
"Won't be enough room in the car!"
Jeff lay down on the bed and watched him pack. "You haven't told me where we're going yet. Is it somewhere hot? HmmmâŚhard to tell by what you're packing." He peered into the case.
Tony threw a few sweaters into the case.
"More casual stuff than formal," Jeff observed. "What kind of job will you be doing? No, wait, don't tell me! I want to guess. This is so exciting." He giggled like a child. "It'll be like going on the run again. Bring back memories, Tony?"
"We're not going on the run again, Jeff." Tony rolled his eyes.
There was another knock on the door. Jeff sighed. "I'll go hide in the bathroom."
"If you wantâŚbut there's no need. Not any more," Tony told him.
McGee was standing outside the door.
"Hey, come in, Tim. Hope you don't mind if I keep on packing while we chat? I'm gonna make an early start tomorrow and want to be packed up ready."
Tony returned to the bedroom. Jeff was nowhere to be seen - that was probably for the best.
"So you're really going then?" McGee asked, following Tony into the bedroom. "You're really leaving?" His eyes widened in surprise as he saw the suitcase on the bed. "I just assumed it was all some kind of giant Tony prank. Tell me it's all some kind of giant Tony prank, Tony!"
"It's not some kind of giant Tony prank." Tony grinned. "I really am leaving. I'm on medical leave for the next couple of weeks anyway and that, on top of my unused vacation time, means I don't have to work out my notice. "
"But why?" McGee looked genuinely upset. "Does it have something to do with getting shot?"
"Kind of." Tony nodded. "But not really."
"You're being annoyingly cryptic, Tony."
Tony threw a few more garments into the case and then opened up a drawer in his closet. "It's private," he said.
"Come on, Tony. Don't be like this," McGee pleaded. Tony gazed at him thoughtfully.
"Where were you, Tim?" he asked quietly. "I've been off work all week with a gunshot wound, and you didn't visit once."
McGee looked taken aback. "We went to Africa together, Tony. I was there, by your side, all the way. I've always had your six. Don't tell me you're leaving because nobody came to visit you this week!"
"No, that's not why I'm leaving," Tony replied. "Honestly, I'm not that petty, Tim. I was justâŚkind of disappointed I guess. Would it have killed you to drop by and take me out for a few beers?"
"Gibbs kind of hinted that you were dealing with something - something heavy," McGee muttered.
"All the more reason for you to drop by," Tony pointed out.
"I figured you wanted some time alone."
"You could have called and found out."
They stared at each other for a moment.
"Why are you being like this, Tony? It's like you're not even you," McGee said.
"You're wrong. I'm more me right now than I have been in a long time."
He saw the puzzled, upset expression in McGee's eyes and sighed. He went over to him, put his good hand on McGee's shoulder, and looked straight into his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Tim," he said sincerely.
"For what? You're freaking me out now!" McGee protested, shrugging his hand off his shoulder. "This IS some kind of prank, isn't it? I knew it!"
"No." Tony shook his head. "Look, I've been an ass. I've teased you half to death these past few years ��" frankly I'm surprised you didn't take a swing at me."
"I was tempted," McGee retorted. Tony grinned and patted his cheek.
"You were very restrained. Did I ever tell you why I left Baltimore PD?"
"What? NoâŚI don't think so," McGee said, looking confused.
"I was assigned this rookie kid. He was green, but he thought he knew everything ��" you know, the way kids do. I liked him. I treated him like a friend, let him have his head, and he got it blown off because nobody ever rubbed the rough edges off him and kicked him around enough to know he wasn't the great I am. I wasn't gonna make that mistake twice."
"What are you telling me, Tony?"
"That I sometimes lack judgement. That I went too far with the pranks and the putdowns. That you long ago stopped being a probie, but I didn't let up on you 'cause I was having too much fun. That you're a damn fine agent, but you should watch your tendency to turn into an arrogant little shit every so often."
McGee gazed at him, speechless. Tony turned back to his packing.
"Where are you going? Do you have a job lined up? What are you going to do?" McGee asked at last.
"A friend of mine, Ryan, runs a small local radio station inâŚwell, it doesn't matter where. I called him yesterday, and he offered me a job as sports commentator." Tony straightened up with a grin. "Well, he figures I know sports, and I sure as hell know how to talk. Won't pay much, but it'll be enough to start with. I've still got some of the money my mom left me when she died. I do have some expensive tastesâŚ" He picked up his favourite pair of shoes and cradled them affectionately before putting them in the case. "But I've always spent her money pretty wisely, despite everyone's expectations to the contrary."
"Sports commentator?" McGee was opening and closing his mouth like a fish.
"Yeah. I enrolled in a postgraduate degree class in film at the local university too." Tony grinned at him.
"Are you trying to be Tony DiNardo?" McGee asked suspiciously. "Wasn't that your undercover identity? Professor of film?"
"Yes it was, and no, I'm not trying to be Tony DiNardo. For the first time in a long time I'm actually trying to be Tony DiNozzo."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. Look, Tim, I don't know how the future will pan out. I don't know if I'll end up staying on the radio, or becoming a real life professor, or going back to being a cop, or what." Tony shrugged. "And that's kind of exciting. It's a fresh start. A blank slate."
"Same soul, different skies," McGee quoted. Tony raised an eyebrow. "Old saying ��" you can run away all you like, but you'll still be you, Tony."
"Not running away, Timmy. Not this time. Just moving on."
"You think you can? You think you won't miss us? You think you won't miss all the excitement and the adrenaline rush of being a field agent? You think you won't miss Gibbs?" McGee asked incredulously.
"I think I'll miss all of that and all of you," Tony said firmly. "But that's no reason to stay. Now, this has been nice, Tim, but I need you to leave now."
He ushered McGee to the front door. They paused when they got there. Then McGee wrapped an arm around his neck and gave him an awkward hug. Tony patted his shoulder just as awkwardly and then released him.
"Do not track the GPS transmitter in my cell phone to find out where I am," Tony ordered.
"I won't." McGee grinned.
"Or trace my credit cards," Tony said, with narrowed eyes.
"Scout's honour." McGee held up his hand in the Boy Scout salute.
"Never actually believed you *were* a scout," Tony muttered. "Only boy scout I ever met who doesn't know what poison ivy looks like."
McGee grinned. "Don't annoy Ryan too much, Tony."
"I'll do my best." Tony grinned back at him. "OhâŚhere, take this." He took out an envelope from his jeans pocket. "Give it to Abby for me."
"She refuses to believe you're leaving," McGee told him. "She's shut herself in her lab and says she won't come out until we persuade you to stay."
"I figured." Tony nodded. "That's why I wrote her the letter - slide it under the door. She'll come out when she's read it."
"I'll do that. WellâŚbye, Tony."
Tony smiled. "Bye, Probie."
~*~
Tony returned to his bedroom to finish packing.
"He gone?" Jeff poked his head around the door.
"Yeah."
"I don't like him." Jeff came into the room and threw himself down on a chair in the corner, looking sulky.
"You're just jealous."
"He didn't call you or come visit remember?" Jeff said darkly. "I've always been here for you, Tony."
"I know, buddy. But then, if he and I had been as close as I wanted, I wouldn't have needed you, would I?"
"Why weren't you close?" Jeff asked curiously. "'Cause of that kid in Baltimore?"
"Nah. I guess the probie just found me too annoying. We never had much in common, and I never got the feeling he really valued what I brought to the team. Then again, I teased the shit out of him, so I guess I can't really blame him."
"He looks down on you."
"He knows he's smarter than me."
"You've got street-smarts, Tony - like me. Counts for just as much as book learning."
"Well, maybe McGee will figure that out now I'm not there anymore." Tony grinned. "'Cause I figure it'll take them a hell of a lot longer to solve cases without my flashes of brilliance and amazing investigative talents."
"They'll miss your ego too," Jeff snorted. "And your nosiness."
Tony laughed out loud, and then became suddenly serious. "Well, I hope they miss something about me," he said softly.
"They will." Jeff got up out of the chair and poked around in the suitcase again. "Did you say we're leaving tomorrow morning, Tony?"
Tony opened a drawer in his closet and sighed. He guessed it was time. Of all the goodbyes, he'd been dreading this one the most.
"Jeff, you're not coming with me," Tony said gently.
"What? ButâŚbut we're buddies!" Jeff protested. "Nobody ever treated me like you treat me, Tony. Nobody was ever nice to me before."
"I know, Jeff. And nobody ever liked me as much as you do," Tony replied. "That's why I kept you around. Well, that and the fact that nobody else wanted you."
"That's not nice!" Jeff protested.
"No, but it's true." Tony picked up the urn in his closet drawer. "You were at the crematorium for months and nobody claimed you, Jeff." He ran his thumb over the inscription on the urn: "Jeffrey White."
"You're sentimental, Tony," Jeff chided. "That always surprises me about you."
"Well, like I said to Gibbs at the time, I really liked you, Jeff."
"And I really liked you, Tony. Even though you killed me."
"Well, you *were* going to slit my throat," Tony chuckled. "And you had killed a few other people along the way. You weren't actually a very nice guy, Jeff."
"Then why did you bring me home and keep me around all this time?" Jeff looked at the urn over Tony's shoulder.
"I dunno. Lonely I guess. I lied to Dr. Farley about not having imaginary friends as a kid; I had dozens. It's a hard habit to break." He grinned at Jeff over his shoulder. "Wanted to connect with someone, Jeff, the way I never seemed to be able to do with the people at work. You didn't find me annoying or disappointing - you seemed to actually like me for me."
"You ever ask yourself why you find it easier to get close to your undercover marks than the actual people in your life, Tony?" Jeff asked curiously. "I mean, first there was me and then there was Jeanne."
"Because I had it backwards, Jeff," Tony said tiredly. "I was more myself with you and Jeanne than I ever was at work. I played a role at work, but when I was undercover, somehow I felt free to be who I really am."
"You're so fucked up, Tony. I like that about you!" Jeff broke into a little fit of giggles. Tony glared at him. Jeff pouted. "I knew you should never have gone to see that shrink. I knew something like this would happen. I told you, Tony!"
"Yeah, you told me. Had to do it anyway; needed to do it, Jeff."
"What are you going to do with me?" Jeff asked, gesturing to the urn of ashes in Tony's hand. "Don't leave me here all alone, Tony!"
"I wouldn't do that to you, Jeff. How about I scatter you somewhere nice, huh?" Tony suggested.
"Like where?"
"How about a lake or a river?"
"You know I'm afraid of water, Tony," Jeff said reproachfully.
"Oh yeah. Forgot. Sorry." Tony grimaced. "Okay, well how about somewhere you can soar and float and be free? Maybe up in the hills?"
"My dad used to take me to a cabin in the hills and beat the crap out of me, Tony," Jeff reminded him.
"Ouch. Sorry, forgot about that too. OkayâŚI know where."
"Where?" Jeff asked eagerly.
"You'll see." Tony smiled at him in an infuriating way. "It's a bit of a trek, but it'll be worth it."
"A road trip?" Jeff looked excited. "We can be criminals on the run again?"
"Yeah, Jeff," Tony sighed. "We can be criminals on the run again, one last time, huh? Only without the handcuffs this time, because that really sucked."
~*~
Tony set off at dawn the next day. He'd packed up the car the night before; all that was left was his travelling bag containing various things for the journey - and Jeff's ashes.
He locked his apartment and left without looking back. He'd be staying with Ryan for a few weeks while he found somewhere to live locally. Then he'd come back and clear out the rest of his stuff.
It was the first day without his sling, but his arm was feeling a lot better, and he was easily able to drive. He set out on the open road with Jeff, both of them singing along to the radio. Tony felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. He was free! He was free of all the lies, deception and intrigue; free of the obligations and expectations; free of a role he'd long since outgrown. It felt good to be moving happily towards an unknown future rather than remaining stuck in an all too familiar and stifling present.
The journey wasn't anywhere near as bad this time as it had been the last ��" maybe because he was the one in the driving seat this time. He pulled up outside the barn and looked out of the window.
"This is it?" Jeff asked dubiously.
"Yeah. This is it, Jeff. You'll like it here. It's quiet and there are some sharp farm implements lying about; scythes and pitchforks - that kind of thing." Tony grinned at him.
"I can't actually use them, Tony," Jeff pointed out. "I'm dead."
"I know. I was there." Tony winked at him and got out of the car. He grabbed the urn containing Jeff's ashes from his bag. "Coming?" He gestured with his head at the barn.
Jeff gave a tragic sigh and followed him into the barn. It looked different now; it was lighter, less threatening - although the absence of bad guys, machine guns and hostage situations probably accounted for that.
Tony climbed up to the upper level and walked along to where he'd been shot. He crouched down and picked up a handful of straw - there was still some of his blood splattered on it.
"Why here?" Jeff asked, looking around.
"Part of me died here, Jeff. Seems like a good place to scatter some ashes."
"Will you miss me?" Jeff asked.
"Sure." Tony grinned. "Best friend I ever had, Jeff, even if you are a complete psycho. But it's time for me to move on, find some new friends - real friends - maybe even make a family for myself - a real family. Anything's possible."
"Bye, Tony." Jeff gave him a sad little smile.
"Bye, Jeffrey."
Tony got up and opened the urn. He looked down onto the barn below and saw Gibbs, McGee and Ziva sitting there, hands tied behind their backs, frozen in time. Then he saw himself, lying here, gun drawn, hesitating.
He didn't hesitate now. He raised his hand and threw the contents of the urn into the air. The ashes flew up and then floated down into the barn below, covering the ghosts of the past. When the little grey cloud had dispersed, Jeff was gone.
Tony put the urn down next to the blood-stained straw and then turned and left the barn - alone. He opened the car door and then glanced back at the barn, one last time.
"Goodbye, Agent DiNozzo," he said softly.
He was smiling as he got into the car and drove away.
The End
If you enjoy my stories, you might like to buy my original character BDSM slash novel, Ricochet! Available now Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Ricochet-ebook/dp/B00A0WD2E4/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1351937833&sr=8-1&keywords=xanthe+walter
End Notes:
Many thanks to: Tejas for beta, and Nikitariddick for encouragement. Any mistakes are my own.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.