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Author's Chapter Notes:
More on where Tony went and what he's thinking.
It was common knowledge among the family that the love of Salvatore DiNozzo's life died in the jungles of Viet Nam. No one ever said much about it. They just accepted it, and understood the devastating loss was the reason why Sal never married.

He had no children, so when he died, the bulk of his estate was divided among his siblings. They split his stocks, bonds, and mutual funds between them equally. His house in the Hamptons was sold, along with his Porsche and the apartment in New York City. They split those proceeds equally as well.

Only one asset was specifically designated by Sal to go to his brother's son, his nephew Anthony. Two hundred acres of land nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia were bequeathed to Tony when Sal died. The land bordered the Shenandoah National Park. Covered almost entirely by hardwood forest, it was far too steep and rocky to farm or even develop easily.

The only improvement made to the land was a small two room cabin that had been initially constructed over 150 years ago. It was simple and rustic, with the original field stone fireplace still intact. It had few luxuries and limited amenities.

All in all, it seemed like a strange thing to give Tony. No one was more surprised than he was when he decided to keep the land rather than sell it. Over the years, the cabin had become something of a hidden refuge for him. It had become a place for him to fall back on when the world and his life got a bit too intense for him to handle with his usual coping mechanisms. Some things were just more than junk food and movies could fix.

It was refreshing to spend a few days in a place where time wasn't measured by a clock on the wall, but rather by the movement of the sun and the changing of the seasons. It soothed his troubled mind and soul to be surrounded by natural things, be they green and growing or dormant for winter, instead of concrete, metal and glass. It was comforting to know he had a place he could go where noisy neighbors meant a pair of woodpeckers had nested in the dead tree that was a stones throw from the bedroom window.

The cabin was where he went when he felt lost and uncertain, when he needed to ground himself and think clearly. It was at the cabin that Tony had made a lot of major decisions. What to do with his life when his dream of playing pro ball was lost had been resolved there. The pros and cons of leaving one police department for another had been debated there. How to deal with his own mixed up bi-sexual nature was worked through on the cabin's back porch while he watched songbirds visit the birdfeeder.

Access to the cabin meant driving across land now owned by Michael Capanzini. Sal had worked out an easement with the previous owner that granted him permission to use the single track dirt road which began in what was now practically in Mike's back yard. It was an agreement Tony had renewed when he inherited the property and Mike bought the surrounding parcel. It was the beginning of their long friendship.

He paid Mike to do periodic maintenance to the cabin; to make sure it was properly winterized, repairs made as needed, the chimney was cleaned, and that none of the local wildlife moved in and set up house keeping. Mike always protested that the money wasn't necessary, but Tony insisted. He didn't want to take advantage of his friend's good graces. Mike's work as an artist, while growing in popularity and acclaim, didn't generate a steady stream of predictable revenue. Tony just saw paying Mike for keeping up the cabin as a way to return the favor.

He gave the cabin one last look. He smiled. How Sal had known he'd need a place like this was anyone's guess, but he was damn glad Sal had seen fit to give it to him.

Tony made sure the door was secure, more to prevent wildlife from gaining easy access than to keep people out. The only real lock on the place was at the gate in the fence that separated their properties. Tony always dropped the key off with Mike when he left.

He didn't bother driving his mustang up the dirt track. He hadn't wanted to risk the low riding car on a less than ideal road. Mike offered him use of his jeep, but it wasn't that far to walk so Tony had declined. Mike didn't mind his leaving the mustang in his driveway.

Tony shrugged his backpack over his good arm. Mike had raised an eyebrow at the bandage and the stitches when he'd seen them, but didn't ask any questions. That was one of the things Tony truly appreciated about Mike, the man knew when not to push.

Tony locked the gate on his way through. It really was more for show than anything else, but Sal thought Frost was right; good fences make good neighbors. So Tony made sure the fence was maintained and the gate locked when he wasn't there more in honor of his uncle's memory than out of any real need.

He stepped up on to Mike's porch. Mike opened the door before he could even knock.

Mike was only a few years older than Tony, but gray hair was already making an appearance at his temples, adding silver to the natural blond. Small laugh lines round his eyes and lips appeared when he smiled and added to the impression that he was older than he was.

"Hey." Mike greeted Tony casually. Light brown eyes took in the backpack over Tony's shoulder. "You heading out?"

Tony nodded, handing over the key. "Only had a week."

"More than you usually spend here at one time." Mike's observation was casual, leaving it up to Tony to offer more information or not.

"I know." Tony sighed. "I needed it."

Mike gave him a brief nod. He understood better than anyone what being at the cabin was for Tony. He also understood the need to deal with life as best one could. Sometimes talking about it wasn't really the answer.

"You okay?"

Tony smiled. "Better." He'd never lied to Mike, no point in starting now.

Mike nodded, accepting the truth of Tony's answer. If and when Tony was ready he'd tell him more about what happened he would. It was enough for him to know Tony was doing better than he had when he'd arrived at the crack of dawn five days ago. Tony wished everyone was so easily satisfied.

The phone rang. Mike ignored it. He always did. He never answered the phone if he didn't know who was calling, but he flatly refused to get caller ID.

"People who know me, know enough to leave a message." Mike had said the first time Tony had asked him about this quirk. "Telemarketers hang up when they get the machine. I'm not interested in aluminum siding, vacations to Disney Land, or a magazine subscription. Just because they waste their time calling, doesn't mean I should waste mine by answering."

Tony wished his job let him be equally blase bout answering the phone. He'd even brought his cell phone with him, just in case. But the coverage was so spotty, most of the time he couldn't get signal enough to send a call much less receive one. He had considered trying to get a land line into the cabin but it didn't seem worth it when he was usually on there for a few days at a time.

Mike pulled Tony into a gentle hug. "Let me know if you need anything."

"I will." Tony returned the hug, soaking up the simple, open acceptance that Mike gave freely. "Thanks."

"Any time, my friend, any time." Mike kissed him on both cheeks. The gesture was one of platonic affection, nothing more. It was something Mike picked up from his parents and grandparents, all of whom had been raised in the old country where physical displays of affection came naturally. The faint accent Mike had was another tell-tale sign of their obvious influence in his life.

"You want me to kick over that hideous gnome on my way out?" Tony waggled his eyebrows. Its presence had been a joke between them ever since Mike's mother had given it to him for Christmas last year as a gag gift.

"Momma would know you did it on purpose." Mike laughed. "I keep telling you, its demise has to be an accident."

"Your mother is a scary woman." Tony grinned. "I mean that in the nicest possible way, of course."

"Of course." Mike grinned back, eyes lit with amusement. "She still wants to adopt you, you know."

Tony laughed, delighted as always to hear Mrs. Capanzini thought enough of him to want to claim him as her own. "You don't want another little brother." Mike had three.

Mike smiled at him and patted his cheek. "You already are my little brother, Tony."

Tony could feel a blush warming his face and he looked away. "Thanks."

"Any time, man."

That Mike genuinely meant it warmed Tony right down to his toes. He cleared his throat. "I'll..ah...I'll try to call you next Sunday."

"Okay."

Tony knew Mike wouldn't be upset if he didn't call, nor would he demand an explanation. Mike took what came as it came. He didn't push, and yet, Tony almost always found himself wanting to give him more. Knowing Mike wouldn't judge him, wouldn't like him any less, or find him lacking was decidedly reassuring.

"Dive safely."

"Always."

Tony drove carefully out of town. Shifting was no longer difficult but the stitches itched like crazy. He'd be glad to get those out.

He wished he could say he'd be equally glad to go back to work. Tony sighed. He'd made up his mind to take what came. He wasn't going to ask or expect more for his coworkers than they were prepared to give. A solid working relationship would have to be sufficient from now on.

In some ways, he realized, it already had been. It just wasn't until they'd taken such pains to deliberately exclude him, and make sure he knew it, that he realized he'd been so wrong in thinking it had ever been more than that.

He was Gibbs senior field agent by default, not by design. He'd simply outlasted everyone else. There was something to be said for endurance, Tony thought with a wry smile. He was unsure if he should be proud of himself for sticking it out or ashamed for being too stupid to jump ship when he had the chance.

McGee and Abby could be considered friends by default too. If they weren't on the team, they likely wouldn't really have anything in common or spend time with him at all. Hell, neither one had bothered to call or visit when he was out for two weeks recovering from exposure to the plague. Even Abby's apology for nearly putting him in jail had come a week after he'd been cleared, almost as an afterthought.

Ducky was in a class all by himself. Tony wasn't even sure what to call it. Again, the only time they really interacted was work related. Tony hadn't even known the man's mother kept a pack of Welch Corgi's until the job forced him to spend time with Mrs. Mallard. It was hard to really call him a friend when Tony knew so little about the man. Coworker was probably the best designation available.

Palmer, the autopsy gremlin, was just a guy at the office. Tony still didn't see him as particularly interesting. Although, it was good to know he could tune a piano. It was unlikely he and Palmer would ever have a relationship even close to what Tony had with Mike.

Ziva...well, she was just another agent after all. Nothing more. And it was clear she would likely not see him as even that much. She didn't respect him or believe him capable, and probably never would. As long as she did her job and didn't get him killed, Tony decided he could accept that.

Tony nodded to himself. It had definitely been time for him to come to terms with reality. It was obvious they would always find him wanting in some way. It hurt, but he could live with that. His father felt the same way about him. It was why his old man had cut him off at the age of twelve, and why he hadn't been invited to a family function in more than decade.

He was good at the job. That much he'd never questioned. Gibbs never would have asked him to be on his team, much less kept him on if he wasn't. It would just have to be enough for him to simply take pride in solving the cases they handled.

He knew he could trust his coworkers to watch his back...at least on the job. Gibbs wouldn't want his perfect record messed up. Ziva had her own pride and desire to prove herself to keep her honest there. McGee was among the favored and he'd bust his ass to stay there. Ducky lived for solving puzzles, just like Abby. And Palmer wasn't really a problem since he worked under Ducky. Tony would have to reevaluate that if Palmer ever was in charge of autopsy.

After hours, off the clock, Tony figured all bets were off. He shouldn't rely on them or expect any more than he might from a complete stranger.

If he couldn't hack it being that way, well, he made a regular habit of updating his resume. There was enough in his stock portfolio he could live comfortably for months if need be. It wasn't like he had no where to go.

Tony took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He had a plan. All he had to do was follow it.
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