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Previous part of Help, I Need Somebody.

***

"Sorry. Absolutely not. Forget it."

"Doc..."

"No, Tony. Unacceptable."

"You don't understand. Gibbs... he's been burned over and over. He won't risk his heart that way ever again... and I won't make him. Besides, it would interfere at work. He'd end up spending more time protecting me than doing the job... No. Just give me permission, okay? Tell me I can shield him and still be true to myself."

"I can't do that. Or rather, I won't. Love is the most precious gift any human being can give or receive, Tony. I refuse to give you carte blanche to turn your back on it simply because you think it's a noble gesture."

"Noble? No, this is self-preservation. I won't hurt like hell when he rejects and fires me, he won't have to feel guilty about doing it, we can both move on."

"How do you know he wants to move on? How do you know what he wants period if you never ask him the question?"

"Can't go there. Not buying a ticket, not even looking at the bus schedule..."

"This has nothing to do with Jethro, we both know that. It's about you and the fear you talked about the last time we got into this subject. You remember, that he'll actually give the answer you're longing to hear, but the possibilities will overwhelm you and you'll take off running?"

Just because it made him feel a little better, Tony glared daggers at Lewiston, even though he knew it would take actual lasers shooting from his eyes to get the other man to back down. Once he'd gotten it out of his system, he turned away, brought his knees to his chest and grabbed Bert.

"Fine... I'm doing it because I'm scared. It doesn't change anything. Loving him means protecting him."

"Have you ever known him to need protecting? What would Jethro do if he heard you say that?"

Tony drew and released a deep breath before he responded.

"Crack me in the back of the head and tell me to smarten up."

"Right. You're projecting your panic onto him. You have absolutely no basis for thinking he'll either run or reject you out of hand."

Tony dropped his head onto his knees, turned it sideways and looked at Lewiston obliquely.

"Assumptions without evidence."

"Partially. You've been badly hurt, Tony, no-one's questioning that, but those experiences mean you only see relationships through that filter. ' Keep it light and casual because anything else is too much of a risk. Damage before I get damaged, walk away before I get abandoned again.' Admittedly, that thought process keeps the pain at a safe distance, but it keeps the positive emotions out there too. Love doesn't work if it can't touch you."

"He doesn't feel that way. I've never seen even a trace of that in him... and believe me, I've looked."

"So maybe you're not the only one who's a master at creating masks and putting up walls."

Tony slowly sat up straight, eyes open wide and revelation dawning on his face. Lewiston mentally whooped with excitement, feeling he had just substantially increased the odds that he'd be able to get through to both men and help them help each other. Just then a commotion in the corridor distracted him. He tried to ignore it, all too aware of what happened last time, but when he recognized one of the voices, he knew he had to go. "There's something going on outside..."

"I know... I just caught Jethro's voice. Can't tell what he's saying..." Tony replied, rapidly paling and tangling his hands together to hide that they were beginning to tremble. Lewiston moved to the bed and squeezed Tony's shoulder firmly.

"Try and stay calm, alright? I won't be long."

"Do my best..."

"I know you will. I trust you." he responded confidently, before turning and striding out of the room, leaving the door open slightly. Once out in the corridor, the problem became readily apparent, but Lewiston was still left awash in confusion. He found the powerful, determined woman he'd defended Tony against struggling in the grip of Jethro and another man, cursing, screaming and sobbing as she fought to get away.

"Jethro?"

"Doc... we could use some help."

"I see that. What's going on?"

"She needs to be taken care of first. Just trust me, you get her into a locked, safe room and I'll tell you everything..."

"I can't do that unless I have a reason. At least give me something..."

"She's been abused for months... and we just forced her away from the one who was doing it. That enough?"

"It should be, for now anyway. Hold on for a few more minutes, alright? I'll be back with help..."

"Don't take too long." Jethro grunted, shifting suddenly to avoid a kick Jen had aimed at a delicate area. "Damn it, Jenny, quit! It's over... it's done and you're safe!"

"I was safe with my mistress, you... son of a bitch! She loves me! Let me go! I have to find her!"

"That's not love and you know it, Jen. At least you used to. You'll remember. They'll help you do that here."

Jen screeched and renewed her efforts to escape just as Lewiston returned with a tall, muscled orderly who relieved Jethro and Sheffield of their burden and quickly transported Jen down the hall. Jethro sighed deeply, ran a hand through his hair and briefly closed his eyes, the only concessions he would make to his dragging fatigue.

"Jethro?" Lewiston asked quietly. Gibbs turned to him and grinned sadly, knowing he now had to elaborate on his abridged explanation.

"She was in a... relationship with Ziva. An abusive one. I didn't know... not 'till today."

"Abuse in what form?"

"Every way you can think of."

"She has wounds on her back... whip marks, I think. They've been bandaged, but... they'll need to be looked at again eventually." Sheffield added wearily.

"I'll make sure the medical staff knows. I'm Tony's doctor, Dennis Lewiston. We haven't met, have we?"

The Sec-Nav turned a confused, mildly angered expression on Jethro as he responded to the question then faced Lewiston again and shook hands.

"No. No, we haven't. Edward Sheffield, Secretary of the Navy."

"Oh? Welcome, sir. It's good to meet you."

"Thank you. Jethro. I'll be in the limo waiting for you. Don't be long, hmmm? It appears we have a lot to discuss." Sheffield intoned ominously. Gibbs nodded and solemnly watched the other man walk away.

"I'm so sorry, Jethro. Both feet in my mouth and not a leg to stand on." Lewiston offered.

"Don't. I'm the one who didn't tell him. I couldn't be sure what he'd do. In most things I trust the man with my life, but..."

"... but not with your heart?"

"Something like that. No... exactly like that. Not like I'd care what Tony did for work. I just know how much he loves where he is now... and how damn good he is at it. If Sheffield decided to take that away from him..."

"That won't happen. We won't let it. Do you want to see him?"

"Tony? I... that limo's waitin' on me outside. If I take too long I'll be the one out on my ass..."

"I understand. Oh, I set up the group session for tomorrow. Do you think that'll work for everyone?"

"With the director out of commission, it's a safe bet we've all got at least a couple days off, so yeah, that'll work."

"Good. I had an idea I'd like you to pass on to the others if you would..."

Gibbs listened intently to Lewiston's thoughts then favored him with a curious, meaningful look. "What's behind that intriguing expression?"

"You'll find out eventually, either from me or Tony. You're sure about this?"

"I am. The effect will be profound for the whole group, I guarantee."

"Okay... I'll tell everybody. We'll work on it together tonight."

"Great. I need to get back to Tony. I'll see all of you about ten tomorrow morning, alright?"

"Ten. We'll be here. Take care, Doc. And take care of Jen. She... I loved her once... loved the woman she used to be. Don't let her..."

"I hear you. We'll do all we can for her, you know that. Now go talk to your boss and save your hind end."

Gibbs chuckled and strolled back out to the parking lot. He opened the door to the passenger compartment quickly enough, but hesitated to get in, fearing what was waiting.

"I'm not angry, Jethro. Concerned and puzzled, yes, but not angry. I just need to hear the story. I can't defend either you or DiNozzo if I don't understand what's been going on."

Suddenly feeling every second of every year he'd lived, Jethro conceded, sliding into the car and letting his head drop back against the dark leather of the seat.

"You know about how sick Tony was a while back... and the shit Chip dragged us all through. It was piling up on DiNozzo's shoulders. Then Ziva did something really cruel and idiotic... and the rest of us made it worse. Tony... he just finally dropped under the weight."

"Tell me everything, Jethro. Beginning to end."

"It's not over yet. Not by a long shot."

"Then take me through what you can. I need every detail you can give me."

"I don't need your protection. He does."

"Understood."

"Okay..."

***

Lewiston cautiously stepped back into the room, prepared for anything, but Tony was valiantly controlling whatever he was feeling. Swiftly moving to sit beside his patient, the older man laid a hand on the bent head and spoke quietly.

"I can't tell you anything."

"I figured. Just... am I looking for a new job?"

"No. I don't believe so."

"That's a qualifier if I ever heard one." Tony replied, lifting his face to explore Lewiston's expression.

"I made a potentially damaging mistake, but I promise, if I have to move heaven and earth it won't harm you."

"Okay... again with the careful words. Just tell me what happened."

"The Sec-Nav was here too. When Jethro introduced us, I assumed, given his position, that his office had been informed when you first checked yourself in... and I told him I was your doctor."

Tony grimaced and slammed his head back onto his knees, making his pained response muffled.

"He didn't know..."

"No... he didn't. I'm so sorry, Tony..."

Heaving a sigh, Tony raised his head enough so that his chin was balanced on one knee.

"Not your fault, doc. Gibbs just forgot that part of being a dad is realizing you can't protect your kids from every stupid thing they do."

"He's been a father?"

"I don't know for sure. Always wondered, though. Once in a while he'll see a kid and it's like, just for a second... his heart clenches into this wad about the size of a ping-pong ball. Nobody else would notice. Not that or the pain in his eyes after. Avoiding eye contact is a well-known way to stay on his good side."

"But you aren't afraid to look."

"Yeah, well... we were gonna get into that... rage-blackout thing, right? Let's talk about that."

"No, actually, we weren't... but I'll let you slide for now. We have plenty of time left. We'll get back around to Jethro, I guarantee." Lewiston vowed, tossing his patient a knowing grin as he moved back into his usual seat.

"You won't change my mind."

"I don't have to. I just need to find a way to shift your perspective one more time."

Tony snorted.

"That I'm not betting against. Since I never get any warning when it's about to happen, I can't defend against it." He responded, stretching out slowly and dropping onto his back, Bert hanging loosely from one hand.

"Don't spread that around. It's my secret weapon."

"And man, do you know how to use it."

"All in a good cause. So the hotel is what you want to talk about?"

"I need to. It sucks, but now that the Sec-Nav knows I'll have to face the official NCIS shrink at some point and I need to be rock solid to have any hope of convincing him I'm fit to get back behind my desk. No way I can do that unless I have a handle on what happened and how to prevent it."

"What happened at the hotel isn't the central issue, Tony. It's a symptom... an end result."

"Right... I get that. Kind of. I know now that other things had been affecting me before that... all the way back from when I was a kid. It's like all my life... I was building a tower of blocks... and over the last few months it got to the tipping point and finally went boom. Pieces everywhere... clean up the mess, start all over."

"And you've made a great start on that."

"Yeah, but one tantrum and it could all come crashing down again."

"You aren't that fragile anymore, Tony, not by miles, and I seriously doubt the rage-blackout you experienced will ever happen again."

"How can you know that? If things pile up and start dragging on me again... how can you be so sure I won't kill someone next time?"

"Let's find out. Close your eyes. I want you to visualize a room... and everyone who's ever hurt you or dismissed you or abandoned you is there... all lined up. They can't talk, they can't leave. All they can do is stand there and be targets for your anger. You have no restrictions on your words or your behavior. Anything is acceptable. You can feel the emotion swelling... getting more powerful. It makes you strong. Strong enough to finally take action and make every one of them pay for what they've done... pay for their arrogance and their blindness. Your heart races... your breathing is fast and shallow... your hands are clenched into fists..."

As he talked, Lewiston leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and carefully studied Tony's expression and body language. The young man was frowning and beginning to tremble and he was pulling back slightly, tilting his body toward the wall behind him. His lips were moving, but no sound was emerging. Pleased, Lewiston pushed a little harder. "I know Ziva's there. Probably laughing at the nasty stunt she pulled on you and how it almost ruined the trust between you and the rest of the team. What about your father? I bet he still has his back turned on you. Do whatever you want to, Tony. No repercussions, no punishment. Let your rage just overwhelm the people who never deserved to be a part of your life. They're barely worth spitting on, I admit... but it would feel so good to just let go, wouldn't it? So good to strike out, just once..."

His eyes popping open abruptly, Tony scrambled away from his doctor and huddled, arms wrapped tightly around himself, in a distant corner of the room.

"Stop it! Shut up! How can you... what the hell was that?! I don't... I wouldn't! God, what the hell was that about?!"

"Proving something to both of us." Lewiston explained calmly, walking to where Tony stood and gently touching his shoulder. "That was the exact reaction I was hoping to get from you."

"You wanted me to get pissed at you? I don't understand...":

"It isn't anger you're feeling right now, it's fear."

"Fear... so that was a test."

"And you passed with flying colors. You could have given in and seen yourself lashing out and hurting the people who've hurt you, but instead you rejected what I was saying. You're deeply afraid of ever getting that out of control again. That's why I can't see it happening. You're not a rage addict, Tony. You're not and never will be your father."

Eyes sliding closed again, Tony turned further into the corner, bracing himself on the wall as he mumbled his gratitude.

"Thank God... and thank you..."

"I'm sure he appreciates it as much as I do. This doesn't mean there aren't relaxation and restraint techniques you can learn to help you stay in control..."

"I'm willing, believe me... but lunch first. I need a humungous, gigantic tray of meat and potatoes covered in grease. And a loaf of bread. Oh, and a beer. Non-alcoholic."

"What, you want Brad and the nutrition department after me?"

"Fine. Whatever they've got will have to do.' Tony conceded, pouting mildly until further thought brightened his mood again. "Ice cream?"

"Now that I can arrange..."

-------------------

NCIS:

When Gibbs and the Sec-Nav finally made it back to the office, they found Tim, Abby, Ducky and Palmer all nervously waiting for them in the bullpen. Sheffield grinned wryly.

"Not as if I was expecting anything less. Good afternoon, people."

Ducky stood and moved forward to greet the secretary as the old friends they were.

"Edward. Not the typical morning around here, I gather."

"No, Don, I'm afraid it wasn't."

"Where is Jennifer?" the older man asked somberly, sorrow and worry furrowing his brow.

"Bethesda. The same wing as Agent DiNozzo." He replied, continuing swiftly in response to the stricken looks the group was suddenly showing him. "Please calm down, all of you. True, I should have been told when this first happened..." he directed at Jethro, "... but if there's one thing I've gotten very good at it's after-the-fact damage control. Your colleague's future with NCIS is in safe hands."

"Sir?" Abby began, tentatively raising one hand "What do we do now? Without a director, I mean?"

"Until a new candidate can be found, I'll be working with you. Beginning after you all come back from the forty-eight hour leave I'm granting you, of course. I wish I could give you more, but since three of you also do work for other teams, it just isn't possible."

Tim frowned and protested mildly.

"Sir, I'd rather work, if that's alright with you."

"It isn't. I'll need at least that long to start untangling the chaos Director Sheppard has undoubtedly left me. I understand that you'll be taking the morning off tomorrow anyway to meet with Agent DiNozzo at the hospital, so it all works out. Besides, I understand that you've been doing exceptional work in your friend's absence, Agent McGee. If anyone deserves a little time to rest and reflect... it's you. If you want me, Jethro, I'll be upstairs making a dent in the mess. Try not to want me for a while, alright?"

"Understood."

Somehow, the group managed to hold out until the secretary strolled out of earshot, but then the bullpen dissolved into a jumbled uproar. A shrill whistle from Gibbs was all it took to re-establish peace. "Better. Palmer; you Ducky or Abby got work you need to be doing right now?"

"No, sir. Not at the moment."

"Okay. I'll try to make this brief anyway..."

Over the next few minutes, he quickly laid out Lewiston's plan for the group session. "We're all going out to dinner together tonight to talk about it and give McGee what he needs to get us ready. Everybody clear?"

They all nodded. "Good. Okay, scatter, people. I need some peace and quiet."

Ducky and Jimmy quietly moved off toward the elevators, but Abby simply shifted seats from the corner of Tim's desk to the floor at Jethro's feet. He scowled down at her, but she turned her large dark eyes up to meet his and his resolve instantly took a nose-dive and went up in flames. "No talking." He ordered gruffly. Abby gave him a sweet smile, briefly hugged his leg and pulled out her PDA. Tim, however, was just coming out of a state of shock and hadn't heard the admonition.

"Boss. How did... you told him about me?"

"Some reason I shouldn't have?"

"No, of course not. It's just... I didn't expect..."

"He asked how the rest of you were doin' in the middle of all this and I told him the truth. Nothing more to it than that."

"Right. Understood, boss." he replied, a broad grin slowly blooming on his lips. "I'm just going to... go look at some more files in the cold case room. I'll probably be there a while."

"Whatever you do is fine. Just do it quietly."

***

Lewiston leaned back in his chair and drained the last of his own drink, smiling as he watched Tony nearly swallow his plastic spoon in a vain search for a final trace of ice cream. The young man's appetite had come so far from where he'd started that, citing a not-entirely-truthful concern for his waistline, the therapist had willingly surrendered his portion of dessert to his patient when Tony had looked longingly at it. Now he chuckled and reached out a hand, palm up. Tony surrendered the utensil with a confused look.

"I can't hurt myself with plastic."

"Maybe so, but you were about to start chewing on it and don't try to tell me different."

"It's ice cream." Tony countered, as if that simple statement should clear things up for any reasonable person.

"I'm with you there. I just thank God the nutritionist thinks I'm cute or we never would have had a chance at her Ben and Jerry's stash."

"Cherry Garcia..." Tony moaned faintly, his attention drifting far from the hospital and anything connected with it. "New York Super Fudge Chunk..."

"Focus, Tony. Time to get back to work."

"I'd sell every computer McGee owns for some Chunky Monkey..."

Lewiston laughed again, but still fought to get things back on track.

"In two days you'll be home and the team will probably buy you every flavor in existence if you ask for it. Right now..."

"Talking, digging into my head... I know. Okay, so what's next?"

"That's up to you."

Tony turned his eyes down for a long stretch of minutes, obviously thinking deeply about what else he hadn't worked through. When he looked up again, Lewiston could see he'd made a difficult choice.

"Forgiveness." He finally said, the word almost inaudible. "I... I need help to figure it out. How to do it... who deserves it from me and who I should be asking it from."

"Well... the most important thing to know is that it has nothing to do with other people. Forgiving is about you."

"Me? That makes no sense. It can't just be about making myself feel better."

"Sounds strange at first, I admit, but that's pretty much it. Forgiving because others want you to, or because you think they expect it, just doesn't work. Nothing gets resolved. It has to be a process that you go through because you need to let go of something that's weighing you down. Anger, jealousy, resentment... whatever it is."

"A process. It can take a lot of time, then."

"Depends. Who are you thinking about?"

Another long, meaningful silence ensued before Tony was able to speak the name he had been trying in vain to permanently banish from his thoughts for so many years.

"Michael Anthony DiNozzo Senior... my father."

"Have you gone by your middle name all your life?"

"No. Most of it... since he kicked me out. He calls me Michael." Tony admitted with a bitter laugh. "He, uh... he refuses to accept that I might not want his name... or the reasons why, of course."

"That tracks with what you've told me about him so far."

"We... we talk maybe once a year, now, if that. Always on the phone. Face to face... I'd be too tempted to just let go and make a nasty, bloody mess... ' an unfortunate scene' in his words. When he calls me that name... it actually hurts and I have to pull the phone away from my ear and fight not to puke... so I know hearing it in real life and being expected to smile and act like nothing's wrong..."

"... would be too much. I understand. Do you initiate the calls or does he?"

"They always come from his end. The idea that I actually enjoy what I do and choose to stay in law enforcement... that's another thing he can't accept. One of so many..."

"Like what? Give me some other examples."

"He's an alcoholic and a rage addict and a batterer. He only wanted a son as another status symbol... and never gave a damn what it did to me. When it turned out I wasn't the perfect child, the ultimate genetic copy of him... he threw me away. When I tried to hurt... when I tried to take my own life, he didn't want to know why. He was ashamed... and all he cared about was hiding me and my... 'indiscretion' from the world... his world especially."

"Wow. Getting that out all at once took courage and strength. Impressive. I'd say your father is an ideal candidate for us to work the process of forgiveness with. You've already taken the first step; objectively stating the wrongs that were done to you."

"No big deal. You pulled all that out of me days ago,"

"The next part isn't so easy. You have to admit how you really feel about the things you just mentioned."

"How I feel? God... I can't... it's over and done. I don't feel much of anything about it anymore..."

"That's not true. You told me not two minutes ago that just hearing the man say your given name made you physically ill."

"But... no, it only lasts for that moment... then it fades away."

"Does it? Or do you put it away? Are you shoving all your genuine feelings towards your father into a little box because you still don't think you have a right to them?"

"No! That's not it. It just... it does no good to indulge that crap."

"It's not crap, Tony. Those emotions are yours, they belong to you. Haven't you given up enough? Isn't it time you stop honoring your abuser and the pain you suffered at his hands?"

"Honoring... how can you say that? That is so off base. I just learned to keep it to myself. Nobody wants to hear it..."

"I want to hear it, Tony. I'm listening."

"It wouldn't make a difference now... cursing the past won't change it."

"Maybe not, but you can change how you respond to it. You can change the effect past events have on you in the present and future. Reclaim the emotions he denied you, Tony."

"This is another test, right? You're trying to get me to blow up. I won't do that..."

"Not at all. You just can't move on to the next step of the process if you can't get past this one. Step one; state the injury. Step two; recognize that the injury did significant damage that's still exerting control over your everyday life. You can do this, Tony, I know you can. Just tell me..."

"I... I'm angry, hurt, sad... and disappointed? That can't be right... where the hell did that come from?"

"Don't dismiss it. This is really good. Give me more."

"It... it's so strong, but... I don't understand it... I never saw it before..."

"Disappointed in who?"

"I'd expect it to be me. He always treated me like I failed him and that made me a failure as a human being... but it's them. It's directed at them..."

"Why?"

"I... oh my God..."

"Don't stop now, Tony. Keep pushing..."

"Shit, I always thought it was just unconscious, that they had no clue what lousy parents they were... but they knew! They knew and they turned it back on me! They made me their scapegoat... because they couldn't face that they were the failures! Son of a..."

Lewiston moved immediately to sit beside Tony, grasping his hand. The caring touch undid the younger man and his anger dissolved into sobs. An arm around his shoulder drew him close and embraced him gently until the storm subsided. "Sorry. I can't seem to stop doing that..."

"That's part of what I'm here for."

Straightening slowly, Tony swiped at his face and smiled thinly.

"Okay... next step."

"Understanding that your parents are human. They may not be terrific examples of the species, but they are human. They made terrible mistakes, they dropped a lifetime's worth of their baggage at your feet... and that's on them, not you. It wasn't, it isn't and it never will be your fault."

"Oh. So that's what you meant. Forgiving means freeing myself from what they did... and believing they'll decide to make amends some day, but not feeling guilty for the rest of my life if they choose to stay the way they are."

"That's a big part of it. It allows you to have hope, for yourself and them, and that's huge."

"Hope... not sure I know what that feels like anymore. If I can get that back, it really will be major. I think I'll get there, though. Any more steps?"

"Just one. The hardest one of all."

"Forgiving myself. For letting my screwed up emotions affect how I saw my friends behavior, getting so low that I tried to kill myself... and not asking for help before it got that bad."

"Oh how I love that insight of yours."

"Look... I know I asked for sunup to sundown, but I'm about to pass out I'm so tired..."

"With good reason. Of course we can stop." He agreed, rising to his feet. Tony stretched out on his side, arms wrapped around Abby's hippo, sighed and closed his eyes. Lewiston tugged the blanket up over both of them and quietly left.

-----------------------

THAT NIGHT: A LOCAL RESTAURANT

Gibbs sat back against the leather of the large booth they'd chosen, feeling some tension about how tomorrow morning would play out, but concealing it from the others. They had all eaten and were now working on the task Lewiston had set them. He would be the last to add to the slip of paper that had been moving around the group for the last half hour, as he already knew what he would write. When Ducky slid the list to him across the table, Gibbs took one last sip of his coffee, sat up and studied it carefully. Scribbling quickly across the bottom of the sheet, he looked up, smiling lightly.

"That'll do fine. It's in your hands now, Tim." He proclaimed, handing the list to the younger man.

"I won't let you down, I promise."

"I know. Jimmy, you're bringing the equipment, right?"

"Yeah. No problem."

"Good. Okay, everybody home and get a good night's sleep. We've got a tough morning ahead of us. We meet at nine-thirty in the hospital lobby."

The others slowly shifted and stood, filing out with expressions running the gamut from pensive to eager. Only Abby stayed behind for a last word with Gibbs.

"Is he sure? Tony can really come home in two days?"

"He seemed sure to me. The man knows his stuff, Abs. If Lewiston says Tony's ready, he's ready."

"I only hope this plan doesn't set him back another two weeks. Oh, and talk about irony..."

"Irony?"

'Well, I was at Timmy's the other night when he was, you know, working on that project and if I don't know your handwriting by now..."

Gibbs grimaced and rubbed his temple.

"You breathe a word..."

"Never! What the project was all about? It's destiny... meant to be. If I screw that up, the universe will start screwing with me and that is the last thing I need..."

***

10:00 A.M. THE FOLLOWING MORNING

"Morning, Tony."

"It is? Again? God, that just seems to happen every day, now. Can't you do something about that?"

"Cute. The nurses said you refused breakfast."

"I can't. If at all possible, I'd like to avoid upchucking in front of everybody if this goes south."

"It won't."

"You have no idea how I'm defining south right now... so please, no happy talk. Let's just do this, okay?"

Lifting Tony's chin so that their eyes met, Lewiston smiled softly over his response.

"I'll rephrase. I won't let anything negative happen in that room today. That's not what today is for. Better?"

"Just slightly." He grumped, rising to his feet. "Do I have to go in there like this?" he asked waving vaguely at his scrubs. "I might be a mental patient, but do I have to look like one?"

"Fashion anxiety. Now I know you're ready to go home."

"Ha-ha. It is to laugh. I'm serious about these... things."

"The scrubs are clean, just like they have been every other day. Nothing wrong with them."

"It's how I look in them! Ducky and Abby have seen me, but the others..."

"They aren't here to critique your outfit, Tony. Your friends are here to support you and express their feelings about what's happened. You could be sitting there in tights and a Shakespearean tunic and I don't think they'd care."

"You don't get it! I'm strong now... strong and stable. I don't need or want their pity. Looking like this... I know that's what I'll see in their eyes."

"No. Sympathy, concern, apprehension maybe. No pity. They love you and they would never do that. Anything you see in their eyes is coming from that place. Got it?" he asked in a mock-stern voice, shaking Tony's chin back and forth at the same time.

"Yeah... I got it." Tony replied with a soft laugh.

"Okay. Let's get going."

Once more there was the hesitation getting over the threshold, but eventually they made it beyond the confines of Tony's small chamber.

"Can I at least get a minute in there by myself to breathe before they all show up?" Tony pleaded as they made their way down the corridor.

"Sorry. They're waiting for us already. Don't worry, alright? You'll be fine."

"So you say..." Tony grumbled under his breath. When they reached the designated room, he moved into the large open space slowly, his expression neutral except for his eyes, which were telegraphing his fervent wish for a weapon in his hand or permission to flee. Lewiston had provided neither, both deepening and heightening his patient's anxiety.

Tony gazed around at the half-circle of chairs, noting the empty one that faced them, and smiled tightly at the people ranged before him, most of whom he hadn't seen or spoken to in what felt like an eternity. When he realized how much effort Abby was putting into staying in her seat, his smile softened, he nodded and she flew into his arms. Once she decided she was done squeezing the air out of him and had stepped back, the others approached and greeted him one by one. Finally, the group found their seats again and Tony reluctantly claimed the chair obviously meant for him.

Standing behind him, hands protectively curled around Tony's shoulders, the doctor quietly addressed the group, aware that the acoustics allowed him to be heard clearly without shouting.

"Welcome, everyone. I'm grateful for your presence today. Tony needs to hear what's on your minds and weighing down your hearts, but I have one requirement; please think very carefully before you speak. I've prepared him for the fact that some or all of you may be angry about what he tried to do, but the purpose of this is to avoid any more pain or misunderstanding. Be truthful... but try your best to be kind at the same time. Would you begin, Abby?"

"I guess they did put me on the end for a reason..." she replied softly, reaching under her seat and pulling out a portable stereo, plopping it in her lap. To her dismay, Tony sat up straighter and his previously impassive face now became wary and fearful.

"What the hell, Abs?" he asked

"Just trust me, okay? That amazing guy behind you... he said we could talk, we could choose a song that spoke to how we feel about everything that's gone down, or we could do both. I picked the third one. I'll talk to you after it's done. I really need to do that more, I know... talking to you, I mean. And making you talk, even when you don't want to. Anyway, this is my song..."

Ignoring Tony's further mumbles of protest, Abby hit play and the CD began. Tony pushed up, trying to rise out of his chair, but Lewiston held him down and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"You've managed to keep faith in me all this time, Tony. Just hold on a little longer... please."

As the lyrics of the song began to flow out of the speakers, Tony found himself relaxing almost against his will as he became caught up in the words he was hearing; words that left him stunned and frozen in place.

So on we go

His welfare is my concern

No burden is he to bear

We'll get there

For I know

He would not encumber me

He ain't heavy, he's my brother.
It's a long, long road From which there is no return

While we're on the way to there

Why not share

And the load doesn't weigh me down at all

He ain't heavy, he's my brother...

By the time the song finished, Tony had found his voice again, but when he spoke up, his only response was pained shock and anger. Abby, however, seemed to have come prepared.

"Abby! God, I can't believe... son of a...

"Shush. You can be pissed about the ambush later. Right now, you have to listen to me. I didn't need anyone to tell me you're my big brother, Tony. I knew that the minute we met. I could see in your eyes that someone, maybe even everyone, had let you down big time... and what you needed was someone you could stand in front of and protect from the world. I never had that and it's something I always wanted, so I was totally psyched. I loved that we could sort of... fill holes in each other. But I didn't know how big your holes really were. If I had, I would've found a way to patch 'em or sew 'em or something, I swear I would. All I needed was time. The idea of you stealing that time away... that you decided to turn your whole self into one big hole and make a big sucking, aching exit wound in my world, too... that's gonna take some work to get over, but I will. We will, 'cause you'll always be my brother... and I still love you, no matter what."

Face buried in his hands, Tony missed the stereo being passed left into Tim's hands. The younger man's choice of music nearly broke Tony completely, but he fought to keep it together, though he couldn't imagine how he'd make it through three more songs.

"You, um... You've given me so much, Tony... and I know I'll never be able to tell you all of it... or repay even a tenth of a percent. I'm so glad you're okay... but I'm with Abby on the taking yourself away from us part. If you weren't there anymore to-to tease me or teach me, or if I couldn't look up and see you sleeping at your desk when a case goes way overtime... I just have no idea what I'd do. You being gone forever... there are moments when that thought hits me and... I get so mad I can't see straight. The thing is, it never lasts long. I know that what happened that night... it wasn't really your fault. I played my part in how you ended up feeling and I willingly take my share of the responsibility. This song... well, I couldn't say it any better than this, so... I'll let them take over."

I'm not a perfect person

There's many things I wish I didn't do

But I continue learning

I never meant to do those things to you

And so I have to say before I go

That I just want you to know

I've found a reason for me

To change who I used to be

A reason to start over new

and the reason is you

I'm sorry that I hurt you

It's something I must live with every day

And all the pain I put you through

I wish that I could take it all away

And be the one who catches all your tears

That's why I need you to hear...

Tony twisted in the chair and spoke low and harsh to Lewiston.

"Don't make me do this anymore... I can't..."

"Accepting what they have to tell you will be the hardest thing you'll ever do, Tony, but it's probably also the most important. I believe you can handle this. I believe in you..."

"Bastard..."

"On occasion. You can leave if you absolutely feel you have to... but I have faith in your strength and your heart. Give them the chance, Tony. They deserve it..."

Tony emitted a low, mournful sound, ruthlessly swiped at his cheeks and eyes and turned back to face whatever Jimmy might have to present. The young man looked to Ducky for the words he didn't seem able to produce, but the ME simply shook his head and patted his assistant's shoulder. Jimmy smiled, breathed deeply once or twice and finally looked up at Tony.

"I... this may come out sounding totally lame. Talking, especially when it's emotional for me... that's not something I do really well. I just know that if I don't, all the feelings will stay twisted up inside me and... nothing will ever be right between us again. I want things to be right, so... here goes"
Lewiston grinned when he saw Gibbs flinch in surprise at hearing a version of his earlier words come out of Jimmy's mouth. Suppressing a chuckle, the doctor refocused on what Jimmy was saying. "When Ducky told me what you tried to do and where you were... I expected to be mad. Really, really mad. I mean... you're a mentor to me, even if you never knew it. And then it hit me. You never knew. I started looking at everybody else and... I saw the same guilt and disappointment in them. All I could think was... you mean none of us ever told him? Five people who work with him every day, who see him all the time and know what he's gone through the last few months... and not one of us ever said a word about how much he means to us? That's when I got mad... not at you, but at all of us. It seemed like we were all so self-involved that... we couldn't even look up for a second and see that someone we claim as family was drowning. Well... I know it's probably too late now, but this song is what I should've said, okay? All I can hope for is that... you hear what it's saying and take it to heart."

Another day has almost come and gone

Can't imagine what else could go wrong

Sometimes I'd like to hide away somewhere and lock the door

A single battle lost but not the war.

But tomorrow's another day

And I'm thirsty anyway

So bring on the rain

It's almost like the hard times circle round

A couple drops and they all start coming down

Yeah, I might feel defeated,

And I might hang my head

I might be barely breathing - but I'm not dead, no...

... I'm not gonna let it get me down

I'm not gonna cry

And I'm not gonna lose any sleep tonight,

'Cause tomorrow's another day

And I am not afraid

So bring on the rain

Jimmy passed the stereo to Ducky, who wiped his own eyes gently and stared at the black plastic weight in his lap, struggling to force sound past the softball that seemed to be lodged in his throat.

"Yes... dear Lord, after all those heartfelt words, I... I'm afraid I'm quite unable to-to speak very much at the moment. I'll just warn you that... this song may not be as lovely and sweet as the others, but it is relevant... as well as being a special favorite of mine. As Mr... as James has so eloquently put it, this is what I should have said..."

You're having a hard time and lately you don't feel so good

You're getting a bad reputation in your neighborhood

It's alright, it's alright

Sometimes that's what it takes

You're only human, you're allowed to make your share of mistakes

You better believe there will be times in your life

When you'll be feeling like a stumbling fool

So take it from me you'll learn more from your accidents

Than anything you could ever learn at school.

Don't forget your second wind

Sooner or later you'll get your second wind...

... You've been keeping to yourself these days

Cause you're thinking everything's gone wrong

Sometimes you just want to lay down and die

That emotion can be so strong

But hold on

Till that old second wind comes along

You probably don't want to hear advice from someone else

But I wouldn't be telling you if I hadn't been there myself

It's alright, it's alright

Sometimes that's all it takes

We're only human

We're supposed to make mistakes.

When Ducky first tried to pass the stereo on so Gibbs' song could be played, Jethro refused it. It took a few minutes of whispering back and forth between them for the younger man to accept the machine. Once that was settled, however, the team dad chose to make his own rules. Standing, he looked to Lewiston, his gaze steady and not even faintly questioning. The other man laughed out loud this time.

"You're not asking for permission, you're warning me that you're about to do something outside the box and telling me in no uncertain terms that I have no say in the matter."

"Word for word. If I'd said it."

"Trust me, you did. Your eyes spoke volumes. Your show, Jethro."

Grinning sadly, Gibbs walked forward, knelt in front of Tony and laid the stereo on the floor at his senior agent's feet. Tony shrank back, putting as much distance between them as he could without getting out of the chair.

"No. No, you SOB, you just back off, damn it... this isn't right... please, God... Gibbs, I'm begging you not to do this..."

"I know. Scared the hell outta me to even think it and if I had even one more step to take, it'd be different... but I don't. I'm in, Tony. You know what it means when I really commit... when I want something this bad. No surrender, no retreat. If that doesn't sink in... I just have to hope the song makes you understand." Gibbs vowed, pitching his voice so that only Tony and Lewiston would hear. Then he leaned closer and grasped Tony's face in both hands. The young man fought and flailed, terrified of what he believed might be coming, but, as his doctor had declared a moment earlier, one look from Gibbs and Tony settled down, realizing Jethro would never kiss him in such a public forum, even if the "public" was only their fellow team members. Instead, Gibbs used his grip to bring Tony's ear close to his lips, whispered a few more sentences then pulled back and hit the play button.

Some people stay far away from the door

If there's a chance of it opening up

They hear a voice in the hall outside

And hope that it just passes by

Some people live with the fear of a touch

And the anger of having been a fool

They will not listen to anyone

So nobody tells them a lie

I know you're only protecting yourself

I know you're thinking of somebody else

Someone who hurt you

But I'm not above making up for the love

You've been denying you could ever feel

I'm not above doing anything

To restore your faith if I can...

... I know you don't want to hear what I say

I know you're gonna keep turning away

But I've been there and if I can survive

I can keep you alive

I'm not above going through it again

I'm not above being cool for a while

If you're cruel to me I'll understand

Some people run from a possible fight

Some people figure they can never win

And although this is a fight I can lose

The accused is an innocent man...

... I'm not below anybody I know

If there's a chance of resurrecting a love

I'm not above going back to the start

To find out where the heartache began

Some people hope for a miracle cure

Some people just accept the world as it is

But I'm not willing to lay down and die

Because I am an innocent man...

In the silence that followed the final message from those who cared the most for him, Tony could only stare around at the team, the tears he hadn't wanted to show them now streaming openly down his face. Eventually, he pulled his feet up onto the edge of the chair, wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his head. Gibbs grabbed one of his hands and held it tightly and when the rest of the group surged forward, swiftly coalescing into a large, warm zone of comfort around Tony, Lewiston stepped back several feet and simply observed, content that, at least for a while, he wouldn't be needed.

***

AFTERMATH:

DUCKY, JIMMY, GERALD

----------

Following a somber lunch with the other four, Ducky made his way slowly out to his car. Jimmy had driven himself, also, but he trailed along behind the older man instead of heading for his own vehicle. As they reached the space where Ducky had parked, he finally turned and addressed his dejected tag-along.

"Yes, Mr. Palmer? Did I leave something behind?"

"Huh? Oh. This isn't my car, is it? Sorry..."

"Hold on. Clearly, there's something you wanted to say."

"No. I mean... it's okay."

"James. Did you not listen to yourself earlier? Take your own very wise advice, my boy... and speak your mind while you have the chance."

"I... okay, here goes. I'm still kind of shaken up about this morning and I don't have a roommate, so I'd be going back to an empty apartment or wasting gas driving around until I found a movie I had no interest in, but would go to anyway just to not be alone, but then I'd realize that I didn't know a single person in the theater so I really was alone, which kind of defeats the purpose of going to the movie in the first place..."

Ducky smiled and laid a hand briefly over Jimmy's mouth. The younger man showed his boss a repentant grin and replied softly. "I need to spend less time around Abby."

"Obviously. Drop it down to its most basic components, would you?"

"Can I... would it be alright if I followed you back to your house? I wouldn't stay forever. I just... I think I need to talk... a little."

Ducky lightly cupped Jimmy's face in one hand and responded gently to his request.

"Of course you can join me. And you're welcome to stay as long as you need. I owe you an enormous debt of gratitude after all."

"You do?"

"Indeed. Thanks to you, I gleaned a very important lesson from this morning's gathering. Pay swift attention to the needs of those we care about, no matter what else may seem to be more pressing... and take the time to show those same people just how much we care, before they can no longer hear us say 'I love you' or 'I'm sorry'."

"Wow. I said that?"

Ducky laughed and patted Jimmy on the shoulder.

"You did. Go on lad, head for your car. I'll wait for you..."

Less than forty minutes later they were walking into Ducky's elegant home, the older man in the lead. As they moved from the foyer into the living room Gerald appeared from the direction of the stairs and strode quickly over to the pair, sweeping Ducky into a powerful embrace. Jimmy gaped slightly for a moment then turned away out of respect, moving farther into the room and sitting carefully on the front edge of what looked to be a very old chair. When the other two had finished soothing themselves in the other's presence, at least for the moment, they finally pulled apart a little.

"How'd it go?"

"As I thought... very moving. Heart-rending in fact. Poor Tony found all the love and concern very difficult to take, but that's to be expected. He still seems so confused... You were right, I'm afraid. Having you there... might just have been too much for him."

"It's okay, love. When the changeover happens at work, Tony and I will find plenty of time to talk. I'll make sure of it."

"I have no doubt. Come, let's go rescue James, now, shall we? I'm sure he's feeling rather awkward over what he just witnessed."

"Hmmm. Time to re-think our non-disclosure policy, maybe?"

"As far as our team is concerned... yes. Watching Tony struggle has opened my eyes to the painful impact of keeping certain secrets... time is far too short for such foolishness. I'm no longer willing to hide who I love or how deeply."

"Okay. You've got my vote. You always had it."

"I know. It isn't that I loved you any less than I do at this moment. I was simply... frightened."

"The world's good at doing that."

"Yes... well, the world can bloody well descend to Hades if they choose to align against us. From this moment forward, my only one, you and I are going public and all the negative voices be damned." Ducky declared vehemently, leaning in to place a lingering, passionate kiss on Gerald's lips.

"My God..." his lover chuckled when they finally pulled apart. "I was just gonna send this doctor a fruit basket for all he's done for the team, but for inspiring such a sea-change in you I'm thinking an upgrade to a Ferrari or maybe a Rolex is in order..."

"Something in the middle of those two price ranges will suffice, I'm sure. In deference to our soon-to-be tighter finances, we should probably lean more toward the fruit..." Ducky responded, as Gerald took his hand and tugged him into the living room to sit on the long sofa. The former assistant ME studied Jimmy for a long moment then held out his free hand. After a brief hesitation, the young man accepted the offering and was gently pulled over to sit beside Gerald.

"We haven't had a lot of chances to talk, Jimmy. I'd like to correct that. I need to know more about you. How you like to work, what's easy for you to handle and what disturbs you... tell me everything."

"Okay... but why? I don't understand."

Gerald turned to gaze reproachfully at Ducky.

"Damn it, Don... you couldn't find a minute to warn the poor kid you're retiring?"

"At heart he's a sensitive boy and I knew it would cause him pain and anxiety... so I avoided talking about it. My apologies, Jimmy, truly. I just couldn't bear to see the hurt in your eyes..."

"Retire... you're leaving?"

"Yes. Quite soon. Gerald is taking over as chief medical examiner. That's why he asked you about yourself. The two of you really don't know each other very well and working together will go much more smoothly if that changes."

"I... not right now, okay? I need time to... absorb this... think about it. Can we talk about this morning instead?"

"Absolutely. Go ahead." Gerald conceded graciously, hoping he'd learn at least some of what he needed to know just from listening to Jimmy talk about his emotional experience at the hospital earlier that day. Ducky squeezed Gerald's hand firmly and leaned slightly against his taller lover, gratefully allowing his weary body and mind to sink into the deepest source of comfort he had ever known.

--------------------

ABBY, TIM:

Sighing, Tim extended a hand and touched one of Abby's pigtails. He considered tugging on it gently, just to tease her, but instead he let his fingers sift through the soft dark hair in an effort to soothe. Through most of lunch, she had been atypically silent and grave, unwilling to respond to anyone's attempts to lighten her mood. By the end of the meal, the atmosphere had contaminated the rest of the group as well and they'd all left the restaurant with grim expressions, bent shoulders and lowered heads.

Even now, when he'd parked just outside the fence of a small local airstrip and they were laying side by side on the hood of his car, in imitation of a scene from one of her favorite movies, Tim couldn't get her to talk to him and he was becoming more and more worried.

"I'm an idiot, Abby. I'm so sorry..."

At last she turned her head, looked at him quizzically and spoke up.

"For what?"

"I don't know. I just need something... anything to be my fault. At times like this, if I don't have something to be making amends for... I go crazy."

"Timmy, what are you talking about?"

"That's what's got you so mad, right? What I said to Tony? I can't help it, Abs, it's what I do. When things go wrong, I step up and take the blame so the pressure's off everybody else and... and things can get back to normal faster. It makes me sick to my stomach when the people around me are tense and anxious all the time... I hate it, so I have to do something. I had to try and fix it..."

"Like you're doing right now." She responded. Tim picked up his head and looked at her sadly, but when he opened his mouth to speak again Abby held up a hand. "No. Stop it, okay? The way I've been since the meeting had nothing to do with you, McGee. I was remembering what you guys said and trying to... run it through my computer up here, so I could make sense of it... get it all organized and in context." She told him, tapping her temple. "To do that, I needed it quiet... so I had to shut the rest of you out for a while. I'll admit, at the time I didn't understand why you'd claim responsibility for something you didn't do. Now I know the answer. It helps make the picture even clearer for me. Thank you." She murmured, kissing him gently.

"So... you're all set now? All the deep thinking's over?"

"For a while."

"We can get down to business?" he asked, grinning wickedly.

"You start."

"I always start."

"You know it better than I do. I only started really listening in the past few months."

"I still can't believe that. As eclectic a music collection as you have and you never..."

"Timmy..."

"Okay, okay. ' Mama, I just killed a man. Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger now he's dead...' "

---------------------------

GIBBS:

Back at his desk, Jethro tried to find something to occupy him, but he just couldn't focus and this realization disturbed him more deeply than anything he'd heard or said at the session. Concentration and single-mindedness were more than simply a part of the discipline that ruled his life, they were essential to his picture of who he was and it shook him to the core that he could lose sight of them even for a moment. Finally, he surrendered and headed up the stairs, hoping against hope that the Sec-Nav would let him help sort out the disaster his old lover and partner had left behind. Wading knee-deep into someone else's problems was the best way he knew to place your own firmly on the back burner.

When he stepped into the outer office, he was a little surprised that Cynthia was gone. He knew she would be invaluable in putting Sheppard's mess to rights Curious, he knocked lightly on the door frame to the inner sanctum, as the door was wide open.

"I thought I sent you home for two days."

"You know me."

"Unfortunately, yes." The other man shot back with a half smile. "C'mon in. Sit. How'd this morning go? General terms only, of course. I don't expect details."

"It was... enlightening."

"That's all? I know I said no details, but..."

"If I have to, we'll talk about it later, alright? For now... I'm here to help. What can I do?"

"Nothing. Even Superman needed R&R once in a while, Jethro. Go find your own fortress of solitude and take a break, damn it."

"And let my brain talk to me for hours on end without anything to distract it or make it shut up? No, thanks. I need... I want to get my hands dirty."

Sheffield huffed out a frustrated breath and pushed at the myriad folders scattered across the desk.

"Can't avoid that... I've spent about ten hours, now, going through the assigned cases for the last month. I knew I was seeing a pattern, but I couldn't make it gel... couldn't quite get it to come together. Then I took a look at her private journal. It was all right there, in depressing black and white." He growled, tossing a small book into Jethro's hands "She's been steadily decreasing the number of cases your team was given in order to keep her... to keep Ziva David close by. I'm shocked none of the other team leaders came to you and complained about the extra workload."

"Me too. They wouldn't have gotten any satisfaction from her, that's for damn sure."

"No... God, I need a drink. More like ten..."

"Mind if I join you, sir?"

"Not at all, Jethro. Not at all."

***

AFTERMATH PART 2:

TONY

Gazing fondly at the tense back of his patient, which was the only part Tony was currently willing to show him, Lewiston chuckled and broke the long silence he'd let spool out since they'd returned from the group session.

"Ooookay. Let's see how my psychic powers are working today, hmmm? Your family sucks for making you show so much raw emotion in front of them, I suck for getting them to do it and the world sucks just on general principles."

Tony grunted something that sounded enough like an assent that Lewiston felt comfortable in assuming it was one and proceeded accordingly. "The weakness thing again. We never did really settle that issue completely, did we?"

Finally, Tony turned over, sat up and confronted his doctor.

"It's not an issue, it's a fact! Why don't you get that? The world I work in, the people I have to deal with... if I slack off or hesitate for even a second, an innocent could die!"

"And how many hours do you work on a normal day?"

"Eight to ten. If it's a life-or death thing we might go all night, but that's rare."

"The rest of the time?"

Tony grimaced as the point sank in.

"I can't separate work and down-time. Not the way you're suggesting. A cop is always a cop. The instincts don't just... vanish when you aren't on duty."

"Burn-out is real, Tony, you know that. Vigilance becomes hyper-vigilance, becomes unending stress, becomes stress related health problems. I know you don't want to hear it, but your health is still pretty fragile and it will be for a while. For you, burn-out could mean ending up in the hospital for days, or even weeks. Considering your opinions on modern medicine and all related topics..."

"I get it, okay? I get it. I just... I don't understand to let it go. When he... when I got kicked out, I had to do something, you know? Staying in fight-or-flight all the time meant I survived one more day. By the time I hit college it was just... normal. Changing that, consciously relaxing and letting down my guard every time the impulse hits... it makes me tired just thinking about it."

"I understand that. I didn't say you have to figure out how to do it right this minute. After you go home tomorrow, you'll have six months to ease into it and learn the techniques."

"Home... God, that's scary. I'm not sure I'm ready... but I guess that's typical, huh?"

"Pretty much. You are ready, though. You've accepted your support system again, you've gotten a lot of issues straightened out that could have snuck up and sabotaged you and you have the security of knowing I'm always here if you need me."

"You think I will? After the six months, I mean."

"I'll evaluate how you're doing after that and we'll decide together if you need to keep going. I can't see that happening, but life can throw you curves."

"This morning was more like bean-balls. I felt like they kept hitting me right in the chest and the head. I couldn't think or breathe..."

"It did seem as if the songs were affecting you pretty powerfully."

"Tell me about it. Jimmy... man, who would have thought the kid is so damn deep? And Abby knows way more about what's going on inside me than she has any right to."

Lewiston grinned and shrugged.

"Sisters."

"I guess." Tony conceded, finally finding it within himself to produce a tiny smile. "I'll get used to this... family thing in time, right?"

"Guaranteed."

"They're a lot better for me than my real one ever was."

"No comment."

"Another one of those things therapists aren't supposed to say?"

"Uh-huh. You feel like telling me what Jethro whispered to you?"

"Do I have to?"

"Of course not. I was just curious. That song... it even took my breath away a little. Hard to miss the message there."

"Yeah, I heard it."

"Tell me."

"He was trying to say... he understands that I've got issues and I'm still in a lot of pain from things that happened in my past... but he wants to help me heal and he's willing to take everything slow and wait 'till I'm ready for each new step. The one thing he won't do is give up on me."

"So you don't think he chose that song randomly."

"As much as Billy is his style and I'm sure he's a fan... no. They probably all put serious thought into what they wanted to say."

"What were you hearing from them?"

Tony drew and released a deep breath, clearly fighting to maintain control of his emotions.

"That... that they care about me and don't want me going anywhere. All the stuff that Jimmy was ragging on them and himself for not saying long before now."

"So don't you think maybe they deserve to hear the same from you once in a while?"

Tony gaped in shock as Lewiston's question hit home with breath-stealing effect.

"Shit... you're saying... if one of them was... I could be the one who keeps somebody from... oh my God."

Lewiston rose and laid a hand on Tony's shoulder, gripping gently.

"I'm not saying you should be hugging Tim in the middle of a fire-fight, Tony... but there is a time and place for showing the people who love you that you don't want them going anywhere, either. Think about it, hmmm? I'll see you tomorrow for a celebration breakfast."

Tony watched his doctor exit with a stunned expression still in place and tears streaking down his cheeks as he pondered the potential power of a few simple words.

-------------------

ZIVA:

THAT EVENING:

Pacing frantically, Ziva silently cursed her father and the luxurious temporary apartment he had imprisoned her in. Two of his most trusted guards were stationed directly outside her door with orders to keep her where she was until Aviel David chose to return and deal with his wayward daughter. Said daughter was on the verge of crawling out a window in order to escape the boredom, frustration and, though she was loath to admit it, the faint trace of fear that tightened her chest.

Stalking over to the table where a simple bar set-up had been left for her, she poured her third tumbler of whiskey in the last few hours and downed half of it quickly, grimacing at the fire, but sighing gratefully as the burn diminished, fading into a warmth that faintly relaxed the tension in her shoulders. Swiveling on her heel, she began her pacing routine again. A moment later, however, she halted, listening intently to the new voice that was quietly arguing with her jailers. Recognition struck abruptly and she ran to the door, pounding on it.

"Micah, Jacob! Let her in, damn it! Please!"

After a long stretch of minutes, the lock finally clicked over and the door swung inward just enough to admit Ziva's visitor.

"Your father will have us both flogged if he finds out about this." One of the men warned Ziva affectionately.

"I won't be telling him." she replied, kissing him swiftly on the cheek and turning away as the door closed again behind her, choosing to focus on the much more joyful presence before her. "Mother... Shia, it is so good to see you. I've missed you more than you can imagine..."

"My daughter... my poor, deceived child... don't fear. Mother is here to save you."

Pulling away suddenly, Ziva frowned at the other woman.

"I would love that, but father's bulldogs will never allow me to leave."

"I didn't say you'd be leaving, my darling. I said I would be saving you. Too late to prevent the death of my beloved son... but still, it must be. There is no other way."

"Beloved? You know the things he did and you still call him beloved?"

"He had a cause. It was not a just or righteous one, but he believed in it and that is more than you have ever had. Yes, he was lost in darkness, but given enough time I would have turned him back to the light. You stole that chance from me... and now his soul can never be with God. Your only hope is to go and be with him...to make amends for what you have done and beg God's forgiveness."

Intent on her mother's flushed, anguished expression, Ziva almost missed the motion of Shia's left hand as it rose, steel shining in the light from a nearby lamp. Unfortunately, even with some warning and the benefit of exceptional reflexes, Ziva couldn't completely ward off the blow that drove shards of bright pain through the core of her body and sent shockwaves outward from the point of impact. Gazing sadly down at the floor where her daughter had collapsed, Shia slid the weapon back into her evening bag, composed her expression into one of relief and joy and walked away. Knocking softly, she waited for the door to open, slipped out and shut it quietly.

"She's gone to bed. Please try not to wake her."

"Of course, Madame."

***

A LOCAL D.C. CAFE: FOLLOWING MORNING

"Jethro, I say again you look positively dreadful. Go home." Ducky

Gibbs sipped cautiously at a glass of tomato juice and Tabasco sauce, grimaced and rubbed his temple.

"I'll be fine once I get this down. Go on... eat your breakfast."

"If you insist. Just be glad I was amenable to your choice of venue this morning instead of dragging you to my preferable eatery."

"Which would've been..."

"Traditional Scottish fare. I'm sure you couldn't have dealt with those who order haggis for their morning repast."

Gibbs looked away and struggled against the indignity of covering his mouth.

"Ducky, for God's sake..."

"Mmm. Apologies for the lack of tact, but you can't deny that you deserve some sort of penalty for drinking into the wee hours instead of coming to us and making use of the basement."

I didn't feel like breaking things. It wasn't that bad..."

"No? You're considering backing away from whatever promises you made to Anthony yesterday. That's very bad."

Gibbs looked at his friend sharply.

"You're wrong."

"Please, Jethro." Ducky responded, exasperation written clearly on his face. "You act as if we've just met! I was there when you first began to grieve for Shannon and Kelly and I've watched you cut and run from every serious commitment you've made since. I know, better than anyone else in your life, how much it cost you to say whatever you said to Tony... and how much those words are now haunting you and frightening you."

Gibbs dropped his eyes to the tablecloth and took another brief pull on the anti-hangover concoction in front of him.

"I want it... want something with him. It's just... I look at him and then I look in a mirror... and I can't see what I have to offer him. He's so damn young..."

"Chronologically, perhaps. This last year, however, has stripped a great deal from Tony. His illness, Katelyn's death... he's had to grow up quite a lot in a very short time."

"I know. He made me so proud with how he handled it all."

"Ah. So that's it."

"What?"

"You feel that not seeing how close he was to falling down makes you unworthy of him."

"No. You're way off."

"Of course. Well, as Mr. Palmer stated so succinctly, none of us recognized what was going on with Tony. So, according to your theory, we are all undeserving and should all now abandon the poor boy in order that he might find a better family... perhaps a psychic one who can read and instantly respond to his every emotional fluctuation."

Gibbs managed a severe glare, but only for a few moments.

"Sarcasm is really, really bad for a hangover, Duck."

"True, but a small increase in your headache is well worth it if my point was driven home."

"Bastard."

"When the need arises, absolutely. Now get the rest of that evil brew inside you and be quiet for a few minutes. If you're looking for something to ease your pain, that should do the job."

Gibbs grunted, his face dark and brow furrowed, but he followed Ducky's advice. Thirty minutes later, the older man was finished, the bill paid and both men rose to leave. As they approached their respective cars, another drew up to the curb. To Gibbs' surprise, Abby spilled out of one side with her typical boundless energy and Tim emerged more sedately from the other side. Ducky greeted them both with a bright smile.

"Right on time, you two. It's so good to see you happy again, Abigail. I must admit I was terribly worried about yesterday..."

"Me too, Ducky." She confessed as she embraced him gently. "You ready to go?"

"I am, indeed."

"What's going on, Duck?" Gibbs asked.

"Oh, Timothy called just after you did this morning. He invited me to join them for a long relaxing drive in the country and then a bit of horseback riding. It sounded like just the thing."

"Yeah... yeah, it does."

Abby grinned and laid an easy hand on Jethro's arm.

"We'll do another trip later... just you me and Timmy. Some fishing, hiking maybe. You've got way higher priorities today. You've gotta go get Tony."

"I'll take care of him, Abs. I promise."

"I know you will." She whispered, hugging Gibbs far more fiercely than she had dared to with Ducky and whispering in her ersatz father's ear. "Bring him home, Papa. Bring him home..."

Jethro felt his heart twist, but he held the reaction deep inside, knowing she wouldn't understand. As she and Tim headed back to the car, Ducky, able to see subtleties of emotion in Gibbs that others would never guess at, spoke quietly.

"What did she say?"

"She... she called me Papa. I haven't heard that in so long. And she sounded just like..."

"Ah. I really don't think Kelly would mind, you know. In fact... I think she'd heartily approve." The ME responded, pulling a CD jewel case from his pocket. "Here. Listen to this in the car."

"What is it?"

"A song of encouragement for you. I anticipated your fear and your past trying to overwhelm you. Just trust me, my friend... this will help." He said cryptically then strolled away and slid into his own vehicle, preparing to follow the young couple over to Tim's apartment building, where he would safely park his car and join them in Abby's for the day.

Gibbs silently watched the cars pull away, his gaze moving between the diminishing forms and the case in his hand. Finally, he got into the driver's seat, turned the key to the accessory setting and pushed the disk into the slot. As the first verse began to flow from the speakers, he flushed and caught himself reaching out to stop the song from playing. Instead, he curled the hand into a fist and forced himself to listen to the rest.

... You can run but you cannot hide

This is widely known.

And what you plan to do with your foolish pride

When you're all by yourself alone?

Once you tell somebody the way that you feel

You can feel it beginning to ease

I think it's true what they say about the squeaky wheel

Always getting the grease.

Better to shower the people you love with love

Show them the way that you feel

Things are gonna be just fine if you only will

Shower the people you love with love

Show them the way that you feel

Things are gonna be much better if you only will...

---------------------

BETHESDA:

Leaning back on his bed, once again dressed in the sweatshirt, jeans and sneakers in which he'd arrived at the hospital, Tony sighed and laid a hand across his stomach.

"Full?"

"Yeah. I'm surprised I recognize the condition. It's not a normal state for me."

"It looks good on you. You look satisfied... and happy."

"Of course I do. I'm not thinking about what's about to happen."

"Big day."

Tony nodded, rising and moving to the door, which for once had been left open. Laying a shaking hand on the frame, he responded softly.

"Gigantic."

Lewiston joined him, staying back a foot or two to give Tony space.

"You've done all the work you needed to do for now, Tony. I swear, you're ready to go home.

Tony produced a dour chuckle and looked back at his doctor.

"God, you always sound so damn sure of how strong and capable I am. All that certainty gets a little irritating, you know?"

"I'll work on it." Lewiston told him, laughing. "I'm not the only one who believes in you. You heard that yesterday."

Tony now turned around completely to face the other man, his expression curious and guardedly hopeful.

"You believed them? You think they were really being honest and not just... I don't know, saying what they thought you expected to hear?"

"They were completely truthful."

"Family that might actually give a damn... it's just such an alien concept to try and get my head around."

"I know. We'll keep talking through that and everything else in our weekly sessions. For now, we better wrap up. Your ride will be here soon. Anything else you want to ask?"

"Will you answer me?"

"If I possibly can."

"What would your song have been?"

"Wow... I didn't see that coming. Let me think a minute..."

The silence spooled out for a long stretch of seconds before the right choice suddenly struck Lewiston. "Okay. I think, if I had to choose... it'd be Mariah Carey's ' Hero'. After what I've seen in you these last two weeks... the courage, the strength, the willingness to try and to slog through some really tough issues... that song pretty much says it all. I truly believe you're a hero, Tony. Like the song says, you just have to look inside and not be afraid to see the truth."

"Hmmph. You're pretty cool yourself, doc. I'm, uh... I consider myself damn lucky you were the one on call when I stumbled in here that night."

Lewiston, his throat too tight to enable an immediate response, simply swallowed and ducked his head to hide the flush rising in his cheeks. He was immensely grateful a few minutes later when Gibbs entry at the far end of the corridor provided a convenient distraction and a new topic of conversation.

"Jethro's here."

Abruptly, Tony tensed and backed away a few steps. "Tony?"

"I'm okay... I will be. Gimme a minute."

"No problem. Breathe slowly... try to relax. We talked about this, remember? You feel safe here, so it's normal to get a little scared about facing the world again..."

"Not scared, terrified. Everything that shoved me to the edge of a cliff is out there."

"So are the people who will keep you from ever facing a moment like that again. You just have to let them in... let them be there for you."

Eyes squeezed shut, Tony chuckled brokenly and blindly reached out a hand. Which was firmly grasped.

"No trying to fight the war all by myself."

"That's right. You're not alone anymore, Tony. I swear, eventually I'll help you see that leaning on other people isn't shameful. Even falling on your ass isn't so bad knowing that when you look up there'll be five pairs of hands waiting to pull you back up on your feet."

"I'm trying... I am. Faith just doesn't appear because I want it to."

"I know." A new voice agreed from the doorway. Tony's eyes popped open abruptly and when he realized the speaker was Jethro, the younger man took another step back. "Looks like I'm a little early."

"No, Jethro. You're fine." Lewiston reassured him. "We're just dealing with some going home jitters."

"How... how much did you hear?" Tony asked tightly, fighting to calm his nerves.

"The part about letting us be there. And you not trying to fight all alone anymore. Kind of ironic... that goes with the present I bought you."

Tony's expression lightened and his gaze swiftly searched Gibbs body.

"Present? Where?"

"In the car. They wouldn't let me bring it in, so you'll have to go to it."

"Yeah. I, uh... I have a problem getting out of the room. It's..."

"... not easy. I get that."

"You do. I can see it... in your eyes."

"I'll tell you the story someday. For now... yeah, I think maybe I can help. Can I..." he asked, gesturing into the room.

"Of course." Lewiston readily acceded, eager to see what Jethro had in mind. Gibbs strode up to Tony, gently claimed the hand the doctor had been holding then enfolded the other as well.

"Okay. Close your eyes again, Tony... and think back to a couple Christmases ago when you and Abby talked me into that Claymation DVD marathon."

"Between her collection and mine I think we have every one that exists." Tony commented, grinning

"I wouldn't bet against it. I'm thinking about the one with Mickey Rooney and Keenan Wynn... the one about the origin of Kris Kringle?"

"Man, that's my second favorite."

"Behind Rudolph, I know."

Lewiston produced a deep, comprehending hum as something clicked into place for him.

"That makes so much sense..."

Gibbs' eyebrow shot up, but he respected the confidentiality issue and didn't ask, turning back to Tony.

"That song that Kringle sings to help the wizard learn to walk again..."

"You've gotta be kidding, Gibbs."

"If it doesn't work we try something else."

"God... okay. Do I have to sing?"

"Not unless you want the doc to know how good you are."

"What? How the hell do you..."

"Later. You don't even have to say the words. Just think about the song. When you're ready, you let me know and we'll do it just like they did."

After a few tense moments, Tony nodded. Gibbs tugged gently and Tony took a single step forward, echoed by Jethro moving back the same distance. To his surprise, Tony was actually murmuring the words to the song under his breath.

" 'Put one foot in front of the other... and soon you'll be walking out the door..."

Slowly, one halting step at a time, the two men engaged in a strange, but somehow captivating dance that gradually took Tony over the threshold and out into the corridor.

"Open your eyes, Tony. You did it."

"I did? Hey... I did. Thanks." He responded softly, staring at Gibbs as if something significant had suddenly changed about the older man.

"Abby needs you home."

"Abby. Right."

Lewiston joined the pair just then, holding out Bert.

"Don't forget your buddy. Little sis would never forgive you."

"Yeah, I'd get smacked for sure." Tony replied, reaching out to take the toy. "You'll call so we can set up an appointment schedule?"

"I will."

"I should say something... but you know, right?"

"I know. Go get your present."

"Yeah. C'mon, Gibbs."

The pair walked away slowly. Lewiston grinned as he watched them go, wondering if Tony was aware he was still tightly clutching one of Jethro's hands.

***

SIX HOURS LATER:

Moving silently into the guest room, Gibbs dropped slowly into a chair next to the bed and studied Tony as he slept. His immediate urge was to reach out and sweep the hair away from the young man's eyes, and he found himself actually starting to do it, but he quelled the impulse and dropped the hand back down. Instead, he let his eyes roam over every feature of Tony's face that he'd never allowed himself the luxury of really examining before. His heart and conscience both angrily criticized him for the sobering things he found.

God almighty... those lines around his eyes haven't always been there, have they? And the ones on his forehead... How could I be so reckless and stupid? I was so afraid of getting hurt I let myself go blind to the pain he was in. I have to stop this, here and now.

"You hear me, Tony?" Gibbs half-whispered, harshly forcing back the tears that were threatening. "No more. I almost lost you, damn it. That's not happening again..."

Suddenly, Gibbs realized that Tony's eyes were half-open and gazing at him sleepily.

"I hear you, boss."

"Boss is for work... not home."

"Home?" Tony repeated warily, pushing into a sitting position.

"Until you're ready for it not to be."

Tony considered the idea silently for a long stretch of minutes before deciding to move on to less confusing and difficult subjects.

"What time is it?"

"Just past five. You ready to eat?"

"When am I not? What's available?"

"Your choice of Chinese, Italian, Greek, a deli variety pack including chicken soup or a ten pound platter loaded with every pastry known to man."

Tony winced, but managed a tiny, strained smile.

"Tell me they just dropped off the feast and went home."

"Hope is always a good thing, DiNozzo. Not that it'll do you much good in this case..."

"Crap... I can't face them."

"It's not a party. Nobody expects you to be doing the Macarena with a lampshade on. They need to see you again... to be sure you're doing okay."

"I don't know if I am."

"Then say that, straight out. They'll understand."

"Okay... I'll give it a shot. I'm starved and I know you won't let me eat in here."

"Damn right. C'mon." Gibbs offered, holding out a hand. Tony accepted the help, slowly rising to his feet and shaking off the last crumbs and scraps of sleep. As they made their way back into the living room, Tony recalled his desperate lack of personal items and asked a hesitant question.

"Hey, I know they won't fit too great, but can I borrow clothes from you until I can arrange to... oh my God."

Tony's words and steps faltered when he caught sight of the boxes and cartons in a corner. He moved over to them, running a hand through or over various items. "My suitcases, my games and movies... when did..."

"Bossman called this afternoon." Abby explained, approaching and giving Tony a gentle hug. "He asked us to get your clothes and bathroom stuff, plus anything we thought would keep you from dying of boredom."

His breath hitched and he squeezed her tighter.

"Thanks, Abs."

"It's so good to have you home, Tony. I missed you like crazy..."

"Right back atcha..."

The pair finally pulled apart when Tim and Jimmy walked up, one slightly behind the other.

"Tony."

"Tim."

"I, uh... I hope we got enough... or the right things. I thought about books, but I decided it'd be better to wait and let you tell us which ones you wanted..."

"Good choice. I'll give you a list later, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. Welcome back..." McGee responded, briefly embracing Tony as well.

"Thanks. Hey, Jimmy."

"Hi. Listen, I know what I said must've been hard to hear, but..."

"Stop. It's alright. I was mad that day... but not at you guys. Not really."

"I don't understand. It looked like..."

"I know. When I understand it better, I'll explain it to you. I wanna talk about the guts you showed in that room. You blew me away, kid."

"I... I did?"

"You've got layers and levels I never would've guessed were there. You and I need to hang out more. I'm gonna need somebody to talk to... somebody with insight and wisdom who won't shine me on. You up for that?"

"You mean it?"

"I wouldn't ask otherwise."

"Well... yeah, of course! Any place, any time. Whatever you need, Tony, I'm there. From now on, we all are."

"Good to know. Now, go get some of the food, before Abby and Tim inhale it all."

"Aren't you coming?"

"I'll be there. I just need a quiet minute."

"Oh... right. I'll make sure and save some of the moussaka for you. I know it's your favorite."

"Thanks, buddy."

As Jimmy walked away toward the kitchen, Tony paled abruptly and found himself struggling just to remain standing. Concerned, Gibbs moved to support him, but Tony held up a hand.

"I'm okay... a little drained, but okay. Dealing with their emotions on top of mine... and I'm still so tired..."

"I get it. Take your time. There's enough food for the next three months."

"Gibbs... I know you need to hold me up and protect me from myself right now... and I'm not saying I don't need or want that comfort... I'm just asking that you let me find my sea-legs first. Once I'm sure I can get stronger on my own... then I'll feel better about leaning on you. I'm not pushing you away, I swear... please, tell me you understand that."

"More than you know. I told you, I'm not going anywhere, Tony. Whenever you're ready... I'll be waiting. You ready to get something in your belly?"

Smiling gratefully, Tony followed Gibbs to the kitchen and began filling a plate.

-------------------

NCIS: DIRECTOR'S OFFICE

"You have to at least consider my offer. You know what a huge step this would be for you."

"Mister Secretary, you're not being fair." The person on the other end of the phone chuckled lightly.

"Did I promise I would? I really need you. You know you were the only one I wanted when this position was open the last time."

"So you said"

"You don't believe me?"

"Of course I do."

"So what's holding you back now?"

"Mostly? That you're being so evasive about what, specifically, happened to Jen Sheppard."

"I told you all I can. She's ill and being treated."

"Ill how? Ill with what? Is it chronic, terminal, contagious..."

"No, no... and only if she develops telepathy."

"Oh my God. You're saying she's... that it's psychological? It can't be. The Jen I know is the most stable woman on the face of the earth!"

"And she will be again, I'm sure of it. She got into a very abusive relationship and when she was separated from her abuser... let's just say she's lost right now, but I trust that won't last forever. Now please, no more questions, alright? I've said too much as it is..."

"Understood. I'm sorry..."

"No, you had a right to at least that much, I suppose." Sheffield conceded, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. His fatigue and sorrow leaked into his next words, despite his efforts to hide how stressed he was. "All I can do is pray for her. I know it isn't enough... but that's all I have. They won't let anyone visit... they claim she's violent... a danger to herself, so she spends most of the time sedated..."

"Edward, I'm so sorry."

"Appreciated. Add your prayers to the list."

"You know I will."

"Okay, enough of that. I get maudlin much too easily lately. Back to business."

"My answer is still the same. My life is out here now..."

"Okay... let's see what you think of this. Give me three months."

"One."

"Two at least. It took me four to find a replacement for Tom Morrow, and even then I felt a time crunch. A Jen Sheppard is what I get when I rush."

"That's blackmail!"

"Whatever works."

"I can't believe I'm even thinking about this... but I'll give you three and help you with the selection process, alright?"

"Thank you so much. My hand to God, you won't regret it."

"Yes I will..." his companion laughed. "... but you'll make it up to me. I expect a steak dinner at least once a week and your immediate presence when Gibbs steps too far over the line, which we both know he will at some point."

"Uh-huh. Do I hear a slight touch of hypocrisy slipping in on your end? Maybe more than a touch?" Sheffield retorted gleefully.

"Anything I did was always in the interest of justice or in order to save a life..."

"I know. You and Jethro will get along famously."

"That was sneaky."

"You sound surprised."

***

EARLY EVENING: THREE DAYS LATER

"You sure you're okay with this?"

"It's fine. I'll have all the solitude I need when you go back to work. Besides... it's not just a random visit. Ducky said he's got some major surprises for us, didn't he?"

"So he thinks."

Tony's eyes widened slightly and he turned from straightening a throw pillow on the sofa.

"Yeah? Really? I wasn't sure they'd ever be ready for that..."

"Things change. You don't say what needs saying... you may not get another chance. We all found that out the hard way." Gibbs replied quietly without looking up from setting the table. Tony grinned, inordinately pleased with Gibbs' small show of openness, but knew better than to call him on it, even teasingly. Instead, he kept the topic of conversation safely on the other members of the team.

"You giving them the sabers tonight?"

"Planned on it."

"Good timing. The night promises to be at least a little emotional, what with Ducky and Gerald and all. Might as well make everybody grab for the Kleenex, I guess."

Gibbs smiled lightly, thinking about the act of sheer guts, and perhaps utter stupidity, that Ducky's slightly hangover blurred advice and the music of James Taylor had pushed him to commit. Placing the last utensil just where he wanted it, Jethro stood back and sent up a silent, heartfelt prayer that what he had done would not blow up in all their faces. He sensed Tony strolling over to join him and turned to greet the younger man with the same soft grin, which instantly devolved into a concerned frown when he found Tony frozen in place, starkly pale and shaking.

"Tony? Talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Huh? I... nothing. It's nothing. I'm good..." he responded distantly, still unable to tear his eyes from the table. Gibbs followed his line of sight, trying to figure out what could have upset the other man so much. He finally realized Tony's focus was the nearest place setting. Myriad ways of attempting suicide flashed through Jethro's mind in just a few seconds and, combined with what he was looking at, the problem swiftly narrowed down to one source. Swiveling to face his second in command, Gibbs stepped between Tony and the table, breaking the spell it seemed to have cast on him and bringing DiNozzo's agonized gaze back up at last.

"Boss... shit, I'm so sorry, I..."

"Stop it, okay?" Gibbs soothed, reaching out to gently cup Tony's jaw in one hand. "You've got nothing to apologize for. I just wish you would've told me, damn it. I didn't have to grill steaks, Tony. I would've made pasta or sloppy joes... hell, I'd serve Cream of Wheat for dinner if it'd make things easier on you."

"I know you would..." Tony responded, lifting one hand to briefly stroke the fingers still cradling his face. "... but the point is for me to re-adjust to the world, not for my world to cater to me. Knives are everywhere, Gibbs. It was bound to happen sometime. I'm just glad I got it out of the way in private, instead of freaking out in a restaurant or in a mall or something."

"I still wish... I want you to know you can tell me... whatever, whenever."

"Say what needs saying while you can. I was listening, boss."

Gibbs caressed Tony's cheek for another second or two then slipped the hand around and cracked the young man lightly in the back of the head.

"What'd I tell you about that?"

"Okay, so what am I supposed to call you, Gunga Din? I could use Old Blue Eyes, but that's taken..."

"Try my name." The other shot back, grinning once again as he moved off, headed for the stereo to set up some mood music before the others arrived. Tony dropped his chin to his chest and began to ponder the options out loud.

"Jethro... uh-uh, that's just wrong. I never thought you looked like a Jethro. Jet? Don't think so. Jet is somebody Austin Powers would hang with... L.J. maybe? Nah, that sounds like a guy on your Thursday night bowling team who thinks gold chains and showing off his chest hair are still in style. J.G. is awkward on the tongue, L.G. is already an appliance company..."

Lost in his contemplations, Tony didn't realize Gibbs had approached again until a hand was clamped over his mouth.

"Are you done?"

Tony nodded and the ersatz gag was removed. "Okay. I have a nickname already. Only three people in my life have ever been allowed to use it. I'm willing to make you the fourth, but if I ever hear it at work, or in public..."

"I understand."

"Not even with the team. Especially not with them."

"Gibbs, I get it. I see how important this is to you. Just tell me."

"My nickname... is Ro."

"Wow... I like it. Suits you. Not sure why... it just does. Do I, um... do I get to know who the other three were?"

"Two good friends... my best friends, if you wanna get technical about it... and my first wife. She actually came up with the idea."

Tony tilted his head, studying Jethro carefully.

"There's a huge story there. One more thing you'll tell me someday?"

"Anyone else, I'd say hell no. You... anything's possible."

"Possible is more than I've had in a long time. I can handle possible."

Without warning, Tony was struck with the thought that, even if it lasted only a moment, a kiss needed to follow that statement. The rightness, the perfection of it nearly overwhelmed him and he swept his tongue around his lips, preparing for what he was certain was about to happen. His neck began to bend, his body to lean forward, but the buzzing doorbell shattered the moment utterly. Blinking, as if waking from a fugue state, Tony took a step back and grinned uncertainly.

"I... um, that was... seriously, I don't know what I was thinking..."

Jethro merely smiled at him on the way to the door and squeezed his shoulder firmly. He spoke quietly as he passed, but the words radiated a warmth Tony could almost feel against the sensitive skin of his neck.

"The same thing I was. It's okay, Tony. We'll have another chance. It'll happen. When we're both ready... it'll happen."

Tony waited until Gibbs had reached the door before he sent up his own murmured prayer.

"I hope you're listening, big man... and I hope it hasn't been too long. I just wanted to say thanks... for Doc Lewiston and my family and Ro... Ro. That is just too cool... Basically, I owe you huge for granting me a second chance, especially after I tried to trash my first one. I will never do that again. That's a rainbow from me to you."

Feeling genuine peace settle into his heart for the first time in months, Tony smiled, winked at the ceiling and turned to join Jethro in greeting their friends.

------------------------

TWO HOURS LATER:

"Excellent meal, Jethro. The roasted corn on the cob was exquisite..."

"Thanks, Duck." Gibbs replied off-handedly as he began to collect the dishes to transport them to the kitchen.

"If I remember correctly, it used to be one of your specialties. You haven't made it in so long I'd nearly forgotten how wonderful it is."

Gibbs threw Ducky a mild warning glare.

"I had reasons."

"Yes. That... I haven't forgotten. Likely never will..."

"Ducky..."

"Alright, message received, my friend. Reminiscing aborted."

"Good. You two wanna do your thing before or after dessert?"

"Before, I think. Yes, that will make digging into the sweets even more pleasurable. Shall we repair to the living room everyone?"

Once the table was clear and the group settled in chairs and on the sofa, Ducky, standing in the center of the room with his lover, took both of Gerald's hands, gazed deeply into his eyes and began to speak cautiously. Despite his confidence in private, now that the moment had arrived he found himself intensely nervous about how his family would react.

"Anthony is already aware of what we're about to reveal... from what he told me, this may not be a surprise to the rest of you, either. What may shock you, however... is the second part of our announcement. We realize there will be protest and perhaps even anger. Nevertheless, the two of us discussed it... and we decided to go forward with the announcement... for ourselves, if for no one else. Gerald and I have been a committed couple for several years. We're deeply in love... and in order to make the most of what time we may still have, I've recently made a very difficult decision. In two months, I will be officially retiring... and handing over the reins to Gerald."

The silence that greeted his words worried Ducky more than the outburst he'd been expecting. Taking courage from Gerald's solid grip and his reassuring expression, the ME turned back to face the group just in time to watch Abby rise and walk to meet him, tears streaming down her face, despite her sweet smile.

"Sorry... not such a shock. Timmy thought maybe... with how tired you've been looking lately and the strain of what Tony's going through, he thought maybe you'd go."

"And you're alright with it? All of you?" Ducky asked, gently pulling back from Abby's embrace a little.

"Of course we aren't." Jimmy responded, his voice shaky and sorrowful, though he too was grinning shyly. "We love you and we'll miss you... but we know it's the best thing. And it's what you deserve."

"Thank you, James."

Abby released Ducky into a hug from Jimmy, after which the others all expressed their support and encouragement. As Tony had predicted, the tissue box was passed to anyone who looked as if they needed it until, gradually, the tears faded and joyful discussion of retirement plans took their place. After another half hour or so, Gibbs abruptly changed the subject, causing raised eyebrows all around.

"Hey, Ducky. My turn?"

"Hmm? Your turn for what, Jethro?"

"To send the Kleenex on another tour of the room." He said, rising and moving to the large closet by the front door. He returned with the large plastic shopping bag in one hand. When Abby received her portion of the contents, she leapt into Gibbs' arms with a bright, carefree squeal into his ear.

"It's perfect, Gibbs."

"Yes, Jethro. I'd agree... if I had any idea what this item could possibly be."

Tony and Gerald, once again seated beside each other on the couch, burst out laughing and leaned into each other.

"I can't believe it... yours is a pop culture wasteland too?" Tony gasped through his chuckles.

"Afraid so." Gerald replied, wiping his face. "I'll explain it in detail when we get home, love." He addressed to Ducky. "All you really need to know is that it's from a movie. It's a weapon carried by warriors who fight for justice and protect the helpless."

"And the victims of the evil, dark forces who rule the galaxy." Jimmy added.

"Absolutely. How could I forget that? It's what the whole thing is about, really."

"Ahhhh. I see. Very appropriate, Jethro."

"I thought so. We all needed something to help us remember what we're supposed to be for each other."

Abby nodded.

"Loyal."

"Honest." Jimmy added softly.

"Strong... and protective." Tim continued.

Gibbs broke out in a broad grin.

"Yeah. That's it. Well... not completely it. Needs a finishing touch... here, Tony." He said, offering what should have been the empty bag the sabers had come out of. Instead, Tony could see a dark shape was still tangled in the bottom of the plastic sack. Stunned, he slowly reached out and accepted the gift, retrieving the square box and staring down at it for a long time. "There's more to it than the box, DiNozzo." Gibbs finally prompted. Tony looked up with a surprised expression and a half smile tinged with wariness and confusion, then back down to the item in his hands. When he opened it at last, quiet gasps and words of shock surrounded him. Chuckling, Gibbs reclaimed the box from Tony's numb fingers, removed the delicate platinum bracelet and fastened it around the younger man's wrist. They simply stared at each other, fully engaged, until Ducky finally found his voice.

"Jethro... dear Lord. It's lovely. J F S T." he recited, reading the simple inscription. "What does that mean?"

"Jedi Forever, Stronger Together."

Tony swallowed hard, reached out to grab Gibbs' hand and finally recovered enough to speak.

"Now?"

"Now what?" Gibbs asked.

"Ready... kiss... now?" Tony croaked out.

"Yeah... ready kiss now."

As their lips finally met, applause and hoots of joy erupted around them, but neither man really noticed.

***

JETHRO'S: LATE THE NEXT NIGHT

"Damn it, where are you, DiNozzo..."

Following an instinct he didn't quite understand, Gibbs had opened the door to Tony's room a few minutes before, needing to check on him. He'd been disturbed to find the younger man wasn't there. Now staring blearily into the dimly lit living room, Jethro finally made out the shape of Tony sitting on the sofa, curled tightly into the far corner. A small flashlight was gripped in one hand and he was holding what looked to be comic book in the other, though it was hard for Jethro to tell without better illumination. Bittersweet memories of the many times he'd taken a book out of his daughter's hands in similar situations flooded Gibbs' heart with sorrow and regret, but at the same time the sight of Tony in that position nudged the older man back toward laughter.

"Tony?"

"Hey." Tony responded quietly, his head coming up slightly. "What are you doing up?"

"That's my line. It's almost midnight." Gibbs countered, joining the other man.

"I have a decision to make... thinking about it was keeping me up, driving me bananas. I finally had to do what I always do at home."

"Read comic books in the dark?"

"Graphic novel. It's a graphic novel. And yeah, reading gets my mind off my problems."

"Can I help?" Gibbs asked, reaching out and finding Tony's hand unerringly, despite the fact that he couldn't see it.

"I wish. There's a call I should make... but I don't know if I can."

"To who?"

"No."

"Okay. I'm here. Nothing says you have to talk... but I'm here if you want to."

Tony sighed and clicked off the flashlight. "What was that for?"

"The preservation of my dignity. This won't be easy to say. If... if I don't handle it well, I don't want you seeing me get...emotional, okay?"

"Only if you promise me something."

"Which would be?"

"That you think about letting me down off the mile high pedestal you've got me on. I don't like heights so much. I get dizzy."

"Gibbs..."

"I'm no superhero, Tony. You check my closet tomorrow. No cape, no red boots, no utility belt. I'm a man, nothing more, nothing less. Men hurt... and if the hurt is bad enough you either have to let it out or go crazy. It took a big loss to teach me that."

"Yeah?"

"Later... I promise you, later. Right now we're talking about you. Will you make me that promise?"

"Okay. I'll think about it."

"Good. Now. You feel like talking or are we both gonna try and get some sleep?"

"It's my father... I have to call my father. Lewiston and I... we did some talking about forgiveness... how it's really for the person giving it, not for the one they're giving it to. I was lying there in bed and I kept thinking... it'd be such a big step for me if I could get him on the phone and just say it. Then it hit me that maybe I can't handle his reaction..."

"That's not on you, Tony. You settle things however you have to. How he deals with it is his problem."

"Yeah... maybe. No, you're right. I need to do this... tonight."

"Let's get some lights on then and get dialing..."

"No! I mean... I can't call from here. He's paranoid... caller ID, call monitoring, everything. I don't want him knowing where I am."

"You mean he doesn't?"

"No. He thinks I'm still in Baltimore. I can call from work. He won't know what to make of seeing the NCIS number on his phone display. I've been wanting to go back to the office anyway... the sooner I start adjusting to being there again, the sooner I can get back on the job."

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay. I'll go get dressed."

-------------------------

As they stepped off the elevator, Tony paused, tensing momentarily, but he forced himself to breathe slowly and his muscles gradually relaxed. Gibbs saw and felt the brief hesitation and gently questioned the other man.

"You okay?"

"Fine... now. C'mon. let's get this over with."

Approaching the mostly dark section of desks where one of the worst nights of his life had kicked off, Tony stopped dead, slowly gazing around the small area. Gibbs was just about to speak up again, ready to suggest that the plan should be postponed until another time, but once again, Tony found a reserve of strength from somewhere and moved forward, turning on his desk lamp and dropping heavily into his chair.

"You don't have to do this. I'm here, whatever you decide, you know that." Jethro reminded him,

Tony shifted around slightly and gazed uncertainly at Gibbs, who crouched beside him.

"I can't move on if I don't. This one last thing... and maybe I can finally feel like I'm done... like I've put it behind me."

"As long as you're doing this for yourself. Not me, not the doctor... you."

"I am. I need this."

Gibbs reached out and entwined the fingers of his left hand with Tony's right.

"Okay. Go on."

Grimly, Tony lifted the phone receiver, tucked it into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and dialed a long number, reclaiming the receiver with his free hand once the connection had begun to ring through.

"DiNozzo residence."

"Yes, hello... could I speak to Michael DiNozzo please?"

"If he's available, who should I say is calling?"

Tony hesitated, eyes shut as he drew deep breaths and shored up his failing courage.
"Sir?"

"I... I'm sorry. I was lost in thought for a moment. Tell him it's Michael DiNozzo junior."

The voice on the other end of the line responded with shock, suddenly far less formal.

"Mickey? Oh my God... I never thought..."

"Annette? Wow... you're still there..."

"I couldn't leave them."

"Of course not... How are you?"

"I'm fine. It's so good to hear your voice; though it's changed so much I didn't recognize it at first. You hang on, alright? I'll go get your dad."

"Okay. Thanks."

When he went silent for a minute or two, Gibbs looked at him curiously, but Tony merely mouthed ' later ' and put his focus back on the humming phone, half of him praying to hear Annette return, the other half hoping his father would choose to take his call. In the seconds before he heard the receiver lifted, he couldn't decide which outcome he really wanted. Then, suddenly, the choice was no longer his.

"Michael."

Fighting down a sudden tang of bile in the back of his throat, Tony cleared his throat and managed to respond with relative calm.

"Hello, father."

"I never expected to hear from you again. Not after our last conversation. You made your opinions quite clear..."

"I know. I just... I've been doing a lot of thinking... and soul searching. I realized I needed to call... I need to tell you something..."

"Yes? What is it? My time is valuable, Michael. Please get to the point."

"I know... I wanted to... I had to tell you that I forgive you."

"Forgive me? Forgive me what, for God's sake? I don't understand."

"You don't have to. Good-night." Tony responded in a near-whisper, sliding the receiver back into its cradle. Even before it clicked into place, however, Tony was already falling apart. Using their linked hands to move the younger man forward, Gibbs tugged Tony out of the chair and into his arms then dropped down to sit on the floor. Tony ended up in Jethro's lap, warmth, love and solid arms surrounding him as he alternated between long periods of heartbroken sobbing and stretches of fast, shallow breathing that almost reached the level of hyperventilation. Gibbs rocked and soothed him as best he could, dying a little inside because he couldn't simply wave a hand and make it all instantly better. Unfortunately, he knew from experience that the agony Tony was suffering had to be released on its own schedule, and nothing he could do or say would make it happen any faster. Still, his heart pushed him to try.

"Shhh... it's done... you made it, Tony... shhhh, you're okay now... I'm here... it's all over... easy, love... easy now..."

"Son of a... bitch... I... hate him..."

"Don't, baby... he's not worth it..."

Abruptly, Tony began to struggle to get away, but Gibbs held him tighter.

"Damn it... I'm pissed... just let me be pissed! I have a right... to how I feel!"

"Yeah, you do. I know that... okay, so be mad. Hit me, kick me... whatever you need to do..."

For several minutes, Tony did just that and Jethro stoically absorbed the fists raining down on his shoulders, chest and legs and the vivid curses assaulting his ears. Despite knowing he would be a mass of bruises the next day, he let Tony release his pain, anger and loss until the younger man finally ran out of energy and ceased his barrage, forehead braced on the other's shoulder. Gradually the tense body in Jethro's arms relaxed, the harsh, panting breaths flowing over his neck slowed and calmed and Tony collapsed, allowing himself to be fully embraced once more.

"I'm sorry... God, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it..."

"I know... hush, now... go to sleep, Tony... go to sleep..."

"Shouldn't... not here..."

"Yes, here." Jethro told him, scooting back to lean against the side of Tony's desk. "You're exhausted... and I'm not going anywhere, so just give it up and rest, okay?"

"I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry..." Tony sighed once again,

"So am I, baby... so am I..."

--------------------------------

NEXT MORNING: 7:45

Tim rushed in, anxious to place his things properly in and around his desk and frantically shuffling and organizing papers and objects, desiring perfection he knew he would not get in the ten or so minutes he had. What he had just witnessed downstairs had knocked him for a loop and he still had not quite pulled out of it when the noise he was making brought groans and muted grumbling from the two men on the floor, causing Tim to jump and his blood pressure to rise another few notches.

"Gibbs?! Tony?! What are you doing down there?"

"We were sleeping, McGee." Tony complained, slowly sitting up and pulling away from Gibbs' arms, allowing the older man to also change position.

"Here? Now? Get up! Both of you have to get up! Guys, don't just... you have to move, now!"

Tony slowly got to his feet, but Jethro, stiff with contusions and still asleep from the thighs down, was not able to rise as quickly. Tony extended a hand to assist him, but was waved off, so he turned to Tim, seeking the cause of his distress.

"What's wrong with you, kid? Is it a drill? Are we on fire? Wait, we're not are we, because..."

"No, none of that! The new director was filling out security paperwork as I came in downstairs. She'll be here any minute!"

Tony and Gibbs' hearts both sank when they heard the pronoun Tim had used.

"She..."

"Not again..."

Finally, Tim smiled, though it still showed the tension he was laboring under.

"It's okay... at least I think so. Wait until you see... you'll understand. There shouldn't be any problems this time..."

Tony was about to ask more questions, but the bell announced the arrival of the elevator and the three men turned to watch the doors open, uncertainty and hope warring for control in all of them. The sight of the slender, dark-haired woman strolling confidently over to greet them drew a bright smile from Gibbs, a relieved laugh from Tony and both from McGee.

"Good morning, gentlemen. Good to see you all here so early... though it looks like you and your second had a rough night, Special Agent Gibbs."

"More like a rough few months, ma'mm. You'll hear the details later from more than one source I'm sure. Welcome to NCIS, Colonel Mackenzie."

--------------------------------------------

FINIS. Really, this is it. No more. The story endeth.

***

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