A midwinter's night
it's cold outside
I'm waiting for the dark
To settle down over the park


I don't understand why I'm starting to poet. It's a little weird, I mean… it's not like me. I'm not the sentimental type. At least my colleagues have that opinion of me. I saw it in their eyes yesterday morning when I tried to be Gibbs.

I didn't really try. It was just… welcome to act like Gibbs. Not that I liked it. I like my boss, of course, but it's not that I want to copy him. But I understood what it's like to lead a team. It's hard to do and say the right things when you're under pressure and are not allowed to make any mistakes.

Mistakes would be the worst thing to do under this condition.
Mistakes would be never forgiven.
And with ‘never' I really mean ‘never'.

I don't expect you to understand this. It's something you learn in Gibbs' team. But therefore you have to join his team and maybe this won't be possible anymore, ‘cause it's my team now. My team…

You want to know why? Ah, isn't this obvious?

He's gone. After the explosion, which took fifteen years of his life, he quit NCIS and went to Mexico. If I understood it right he'll be living with his old mentor Mike Franks. I never met the man but I think he's pretty much like Gibbs. Hard shell soft core. At least I expect that. Like I said, I never met the man.

And what am I supposed to do about that?
Yeah, right. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I'm kicking some sort of stone out of my way. Or at least I expect it to be a stone. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was just another brick of my hardcore wall.

Oh, that sounds weird. Did I actually mention I'm walking through the park around twelve in the middle of the night? If not, than… now you know. Another weird fact in this weird situation with my weird thoughts about things surrounding me like it's normal.

Nothing's normal. Abby would say that, wouldn't she? And it's true, isn't it?

Yeah, it's true, of course. But that doesn't change a thing.
I feel like my heart was ripped out without any effort to be a bit gentle. Mentally seen I'm empty. Physically I would doubt that. But it hurts much more. Mentally, I mean.

To explain that:
Gibbs was some kind of halt. He helped me through bad situations. Anytime I needed him. When I was depressed, being kidnapped, kissed by a transsexual, chained to a murderer, infected with Y-pestis… I don't want to conclude the long list.
I think, what I want to say is, that Gibbs really is a friend.
Not only a friend, more than that.
You think about, what I mean?

No definitely not a father or something. He's family, of course, but in another kind of way. He is… was my lover.

Past. That's exactly what I was going to tell. He isn't my lover anymore since he left to Mexico. He isn't my lover anymore since he gave me his badge and weapon. He isn't my lover anymore since he didn't remember me.

Hell, he isn't my lover anymore since the explosion that caught the most important thing in my life.

His love…


I'm starting being sentimental again. Okay, once again, my colleagues don't expect me to be sentimental, they can't imagine that. They really can't.

But I am.

They just don't recognize how similar Gibbs and I are… were. Hiding behind a mask – he behind grief and work, I behind a mask of laughter and childish humor.

That's the DiNozzo they know. They know an always cheerful man acting like a teenager. But that's not what I really am. I'm caring. Not always, but almost ever. They just can't see it, ‘cause I built a wall to safe myself from being caught by any emotions I might not stand.

It's something I should have done different. Abby, Ducky, McGee, Ziva… even Jimmy… they are my friends. But how should they have figured out how caring I really am, when I don't show it in front of them? They trust me with their hearts and souls. Why don't I?

Good question, I think.

It's justified in my past. There was no-one and nothing I trusted. It didn't seem possible since no-one gave me a reason to trust him in my childhood. I was a loner. No friends, no caring parents, no interaction with other people except the workers in the house. How could I find someone understanding me?

There was no-one.
And I thought there wouldn't be one even when I'm a grown-up.

But there is… was…

But once again I have to say, he is gone. And I'm afraid he'll never return…

I sit down on a park bench and stare at the ceiling of stars and a very bright moon. I think about movies, I have seen. Movies, in which people look into space and their lovers do the same at the same time. I wish Gibbs would watch the stars and the moon right now. But I don't think it'll happen. He is much more caring than he shows, just like me, but I think, he's on his way to his plane to Mexico right now.

Why did he have to leave?
Why did he have to leave NCIS?
Why did he have to leave me…?

I feel a tear rolling down my cheek until it drops heavy on my coat. My coat? No! It's just the sweatshirt I wore today. I left my coat in the bullpen. That's silly, I know.

Another tear. And I'm thinking about my father. Why he hell do I think of my father right now? He's the last person I want to think right now. He threw me out when I was sixteen.

A few years ago, when I was kidnapped, I thought about his words. The whole ‘You'll end up in the gutter'-thing, I mean. I thought he was right, but now… I'm not quite sure about this. I'm a team leader now. I have to lead the best team NCIS ever had.

I don't know, if I'm ready to do this. To make it through this now. Gibbs isn't here anymore I mean. I already miss him and he's just gone for about four hours. Isn't that weird?

I guess it is…

But it makes sense for me. I need him supporting me with my work and back me up in any situation. I need him to find and help me when I'm in trouble… again.

He has to be there when I need him.
He has to be there when I'm down.
He has to…!

How often did I think about killing myself?
I guess, really often.

I stopped counting it years ago. But not only thinking about it counts. I tried once. But someone helped me. No, not Gibbs, hell, he would have fired me for something stupid like this.

It was long before I knew Gibbs. I was just about twenty-one then. And the one saving my life and helping me pull through all these bad things I had to live with was – you might not believe me – a doctor.

Doctor Sean Marple. Was and still is my best friend, but I haven't got the time to see him often. An now he is on honeymoon with his wife. He finally made it to find someone he trusted and wanted to share everything with. If he would be here now I would call him, drink a bear in a bar and talk with him about what's bothering me.

He knows about Gibbs and me.
He has to; he is my best friend, isn't he?


It's getting cold outside. I think I spent too much time sitting here and waiting for nothing. Maybe I should just go back to the headquarters and wait for my co-workers… for my team to arrive. It's going to be hard to face them after Gibbs left. They all will be very upset about that and they won't accept it me being the new boss.

They already showed me that.

I don't understand why they blame me for that.
I know they do.

‘You're not Gibbs, Tony', Abby had said.

Oh yeah, I'm not Gibbs.
As if I didn't even know that.

But what's wrong with drinking Starbucks coffee?
What's wrong with being upset with the situation?
What's wrong with not laughing?

Okay, laughing is part of my charm. I know they think that. They never realized it's just a mask to hide my caring self. I didn't want them to see it. I didn't want anyone see it. Not even Gibbs, but he made me show it to him.

But I'm sure he had seen it earlier. You can't hide from a Leroy Jethro Gibbs, can you? No, you definitely can't. But I liked it, being myself. At least in front of Gibbs, when I was alone with him.

And I tell you, we often were alone.

But it won't happen again, does it? Okay, it will, maybe. If I'm going to stop him and make him remember me and the love we shared for so long.


What am I telling you here?
It's too personal to tell it everyone.

What I was going to say… I really want Gibbs to come back. I need him like I need oxygen to breathe. And no-one can live without oxygen, right?

Gibbs will come back, won't he?
Gibbs won't leave me.
I can feel that.

I need him to come back.
And he will come back.
For me.

He will come back!

It's a new experience for me. Leaving someone you definitely love but don't remember anymore. It took plenty of time to realize how much I'm addicted to him since he works for me. I can remember that, but in which way helps this to know him again?

I gave him my badge and weapon and told him, he would lead the team from then and there on although it hurt so much to do this.

He looked so vulnerable.
He looked like he was going to cry.

But he didn't do this.
He held it together and was strong for McGee, Ziva, Abby…

When I think about it now I realize it must've been very hard for him. I don't remember details of him. All I know is, that he is my senior field agent, lead the team while I was in the coma and that he worked four or five years for me.

Ziva told me he jokes around very much and made us all livid with his dates and movies. But deep inside I feel that this is not true. Or only pieces of it. I don't think he is that type. He looked too smart for this, too hurting.

I'm going to sleep in the airplane. I don't know if I should do it. The doctor told me to get very much rest. And what am I doing? I'm flying to Mexico where I'll never find out, what a person Tony really is.

But do I even want to know it?
I'm not sure.
Maybe it's better this way…

By the time I wake up I'm soaked in sweat. First I think I again dreamt about Shannon and Kelly. I really miss them. It's like I spent yesterday with them and today they aren't here anymore. Although I know they are dead for fifteen years now.

Fifteen years.
That's a long time.

And a tiny little explosion – maybe that's the understatement of the century – washed away all the memories of this period of time. One and a half decade.

But I didn't dream of my dead wife and daughter. I dreamt of Tony. I remembered some things which definitely help me figure out who he was. I remembered a conversation between Tony and me in my basement. He told me some really bad things about his father and his childhood.

I am shocked now and I definitely was when we had this conversation. I don't understand, what his father did, when Tony was a little boy, who just had this dream about joining the police and escaping a high society he couldn't stand with his sense for normality.

I don't know if I had the strength to disagree with the ideas my father has for me and accept being cut off of my family. It must've been really hard for Tony from thereon.

And maybe it wasn't any different, when I left him a few days ago…

I don't know, maybe it was a big mistake to move to Mike. It was a bad idea and the biggest fault I ever made. I know this by now, although I'm not even arrived in Mexico.

And I can feel a slight piece of guilt deep inside me. A guilt opposite Tony. He isn't responsible for all of the shit I have gone through and I treated him like he is. I'm really sorry about this but how should I tell him?

Tony seems to be so strong around other people. He holds the team together, he jokes around to lighten the mood, he infects everyone with his optimism. And only a few seem to recognize it. He is the sunlight on a gray rainy day in October, but no-one thanks him for this.

Not even me.
I am gone.
Miles away from him – the one I obviously love.

The one I love and need to pull through.
The one who loves and needs me to hold on.
The one who needs me to live…

It's so very strange to know that much about someone you forgot because of amnesia after an explosion so senseless in everyone's eyes. I don't know where this feeling comes from but I can feel him deep inside. I can feel what he feels right now.

Emptiness.
Loneliness.
Senselessness.

I can almost see him sitting somewhere and crying his soul out.
I can almost hear him cry, echoing from the walls in his apartment.
I can almost feel him trembling from the sobs escaping him.
I can feel him missing me and wanting me to come back.

And then there is nothing.
I think what I felt a few moments ago was just what I wished him to do. Or something I remember him doing once when he didn't feel good.
For example after he was missing.
After he was chained to a killer he liked although he knew this man being one of the bad people.
After he caught the plague and almost died because one stupid girl didn't want to tell her mother the truth.
After Kate died, shot by the terrorist Ari Haswari.
After Ziva throw a party inviting everyone except him and hurting him with this action.
After he had been in charge when I was with the fifteen year old boy who wore a bomb and Tony was more than afraid of losing me.

And now he lost me.

Once again I'm stunned where all these knowledge comes from. Only a few hours ago I tried so hard to remember the last fifteen years and now all floats through my brain…