Fic: Family - 2/2

[xanthefic]

“What happened?” Jeff asked, the minute he walked through the door. “Something happened. Something bad.”

“Not bad. Just…” Tony sat down on the couch wearily. Jeff sat down next to him, looking scared. “He finds things in what I’ve said that I didn’t think were there. I thought he’d buy the whole alcoholic thing y’know – I thought shrinks loved that kind of stuff, but he didn’t.”

“Did he ask you about your father?” Jeff asked anxiously.

“Yeah – but he wasn’t all that interested in that, either. I thought we’d be on safe ground there.” Tony gave a twisted little grin. “I thought he’d go on and on about my alcoholic dad, and my dead mom, but he seems more interested in the here and now.”

He got up and went into the kitchen to get a beer. Jeff was still sitting on the couch when he returned to the living room. Tony ignored him and turned on the TV.

“Don’t shut me out, Tony,” Jeff said softly.

“I’m not. I just…Farley really made me think.”

“You promised me you wouldn’t let him get inside your head,” Jeff chided.

“I know…but, maybe he has a point.” Tony flicked through the TV channels aimlessly, looking for something to watch. “Maybe…maybe I should stop trying to play him, Jeff. Maybe he actually has some answers.”

“You don’t want answers,” Jeff pointed out. “Isn’t that what you’ve been saying to me over and over again for the past year?”

Tony paused and gazed into mid-air for a long while, thinking about it.

“I didn’t want answers, Jeff, but a few days ago I couldn’t pull the trigger on my gun, and people could have been killed because of that. Hell, I nearly got myself killed.” He could feel the dull, throbbing ache in his shoulder. He’d deliberately not taken any painkillers before going to see Farley – he’d wanted to keep all his wits about him. Even so, the shrink still seemed to be able to run rings around him. Tony turned to Jeff. “That changed everything, Jeff,” he said quietly. “For as long as I keep on avoiding those answers, then I’m dangerous. I’m a danger to myself and everyone around me. Damn it,” he swore softly under his breath.

“What?”

Tony gave an amused little grunt. “Just something Farley said to me the first time I met him. I didn’t realise what the hell he meant then – but I do now. He said it within a couple of minutes of meeting me – damn it, he’s good. ”

“Lucky guess,” Jeff said dismissively.

“No.” Tony shook his head. “See, when he said it, I just thought it was the usual blah blah psychobabble you could expect from a shrink – but he was right. I do think I’m dangerous. I *am* dangerous.”

“I’ve always known that,” Jeff said tightly.

Tony grinned at him. “Yeah – sorry about that, buddy.”

“Don’t go back there, Tony,” Jeff said, in an imploring tone. “Please, Tony, don’t go back to see Dr. Farley. I have this really bad feeling about what will happen if you do.”

Tony shook his head. “Sorry, Jeff. I think this is something I have to do. I’m not gonna play this guy any more – I think he really might be able to help me.”

Tony reached up a hand to absently stroke his throbbing shoulder. It was time to face the truth.

~*~

The next day, Tony got dressed in grey sweatpants, his old red Ohio State sweatshirt, and a pair of well worn sneakers. Jeff was feigning sleep as Tony walked through the living room on his way to the front door.

“I know you’re awake,” Tony told him, reaching for his keys.

“Go away,” Jeff huffed into his blanket.

“Okay. See you later, buddy,” Tony replied with a shrug.

Farley was wearing the nasty green cardigan again.

“Y’know, that’s really not a great shade on you,” Tony told him.

“I know, but I like it. My grandmother knitted it for me.”

“Really? Does she hate you?”

Farley gave a little snort of laughter.  “I don’t think so. She just liked this particular shade of green for some reason. I’d ask her, but she’s been dead for years now.”

“So family’s important to you too, huh?” Tony asked softly.

“Family’s important to most people, on some level, Tony.” He looked at Tony keenly. “You’ve had a change of heart I think, Tony?”

“Yes.” Tony took his seat with a weary sigh. “Jeff didn’t want me to come,” he said.

“No. I can imagine he didn’t.” Dr. Farley rested his hands on his ample belly.

“You know who he is, don’t you?”

“I’ve got a good idea. Do you want to talk about him?”

“Not really. He’s not important. Shit, he’d hate it if he heard me say that. Look, I can handle Jeff. He’s not the problem.”

“Okay.” Dr. Farley nodded patiently. “What is the problem, Tony? What’s eating away at you? Something is.”

“When I first came to NCIS, I thought I’d finally found a place where I belonged,” Tony said quietly. “I’d been looking for that place my entire life. Never found it. Had a good time at various boarding schools, had a good time at college and in various police departments, but it was never what I was looking for, y’know? So I just kept moving on, still looking. And then I found Gibbs.”

“Agent Gibbs is a very striking and forceful personality,” Farley commented. “I can imagine a lot of people find him hard to work for, but I expect you were drawn to his strength of character and certainty, Tony.”

“Yeah. Then there was the whole Marine thing – the ‘semper fi’, the sense of loyalty. I knew that however much he kicked my ass he’d never leave me behind. He’d go to the wall for me. I trusted him.”

“He was the kind of strong, masculine role model your father was not.”

“Yes.” Tony nodded. “And I hero-worshipped him. I never viewed him as my actual dad, Doc – he was better than that.”

“And when Abby spoke of you all being a family, something fell into place for you – you’d finally found somewhere you belonged. You even carved out a role for yourself. What was it? Annoying big brother?”

“Yeah.” Tony grinned. “If the shoe fits…”

“But this new family of yours were also your co-workers - and working with family can be particularly tough,” Farley pointed out.

Tony snorted. “Tell me about it! My father and his brother fought for years over the family business. Got to the point where they only communicated through me and my cousin Petey.”

“So you know all about the jealousies and sibling rivalries that can surface when you work with family.”

Tony grinned. “Well, I figured that’s why we always bickered so much.” His grin faded. “For the first few years it was good. I loved my job. I loved the people I worked with. I had my whole life ahead of me, and it was fun. Then it seemed…the more I found myself, the more I lost myself.”

Farley frowned. “Can you explain that, Tony?”

“Kate died. Looking back, I think that’s when it first started to go wrong.”

“Well, losing a family member is always traumatic.”

“Gibbs shut down. Ziva arrived. She was Ari’s half-sister. He was the guy who shot Kate, and Ziva was there to protect Ari in the beginning. Maybe I always resented her a little for that. But, you know, she was hot, so…” Tony shrugged and grinned. “It was Jenny - Director Shepard - who put her on our team, but it was Gibbs who made her family. Gibbs trusted her, so I trusted her. Gibbs has these famous gut instincts.”

“And Gibbs wouldn’t bring anyone into the family that you couldn’t trust, would he?” Farley asked.

Tony felt his jaw tighten. “No,” he said quietly. “Gibbs wouldn’t do that. Then we lost Paula and Jenny and Lee…and it felt like we kept losing people. And I fell in love with my undercover mark – which was so fucked up of me - and of course I lost her too.”

“Did you lose her? Or did you let her go?” Farley asked.

Tony gazed into the distance for a moment. “I chose my family over her,” he said eventually. “I chose the fucked up, pseudo-family I’d invented in my head over a real life, flesh and blood woman who actually wanted me. But...see, thing is, she wanted Tony DiNardo, my undercover identity, and not me. ”

“So the pseudo-family was still a better option than the pseudo-relationship?”

“I guess so. Yes.” Tony gazed at the psychiatrist bleakly. “But it didn’t feel the same any more.”

“You kept on hanging in there, playing the annoying big brother role to the hilt, trying to keep everything the same, even when it felt like everything kept changing,” Farley said softly.

“Yes. Thing is – role felt off. I kept trying to play it, but it got harder and harder. I could still play the role – could play it in my sleep - but I wasn’t feeling it anymore, y’know?”

“It felt more and more like a character you were playing, and less and less like you?”

“Yeah. So I ramped it up; annoyed them even more and made more of an idiot of myself than usual.” Tony winced. “I guess that must have been kind of painful to watch. No wonder Gibbs thought I was an alcoholic. I wasn’t even particularly good at my job anymore – only in flashes. Then one day I realised that it was all slipping away from me. Everybody was changing; McGee was a big boy now – he didn’t need me to toughen him up anymore.  Gibbs didn’t trust us enough to keep us in the loop about the Domino mission; and Ziva preferred her Mossad family to us. I didn’t even get to see as much of Abby and Ducky as I once did. We just didn’t feel like a team anymore.”

“When did you realise that?”

Tony took a deep breath. “We thought Ziva was dead - and that was at least partly my fault. I’d killed her boyfriend – okay so I was just doing my job, and he had killed a federal agent, and he did attack me, but even so.” Tony shrugged. “She hated me for it. She knocked me to the ground – I had a broken arm at the time and man that hurt.” He made a face. “She pulled a gun on me and…”

“This isn’t in your file,” Farley interrupted him, frowning.

“I never told anyone.” Tony shrugged. “Wasn’t important.”

“It sounds very important. Do you think it’s okay that she did that?” Farley asked gently.

“She was upset. See, thing is, Doc, I don’t have much experience of families. I figured – maybe this is what families do?”

“Only abusive families, Tony,” Farley commented wryly. “And I think you didn’t tell anyone because you know that, deep inside.”

Tony bit on his lip. “Maybe. Anyway, she left as a direct result of that, and then later we thought she’d died. I kind of fell apart. Another one lost. I wasn’t doing a very good job of protecting my family, Doc. And I couldn’t forget the look of hatred in her eyes when she pulled that gun on me. Whatever I’ve done wrong, and however much I’ve annoyed them, I’ve always tried my best to keep them all safe.”

“I can see several instances of bravery in your file – it seems that where your team family is concerned, you always put their safety and wellbeing above your own,” Farley commented, flicking through the file. “Saving Todd and McGee from a car bomb, rescuing Gibbs when he was trapped underwater in a car, retrieving Ziva from Africa…”

“Semper fi,” Tony muttered. “Thought I couldn’t live without them, Doc. Needed them. Needed them to need me.”

“Well, they were this little idealised family you’d created in your head. They were the place you belonged. Where would you belong if they died? What would you be? WHO would you be?” Farley asked.

Tony swallowed hard.

“What happened in the barn, Tony?” Farley asked unexpectedly.

~*~

Tony was irritable. He’d done all the digging on Collins; hours and hours of old-fashioned police work. He was still good for that at least, even if he was a screw-up most of the rest of the time. Now he had a hunch as to the possible location of the guy’s hideout, and Ziva was rolling her eyes, and McGee was pointing out that it was a long way to go on just a *hunch*.

“It’s not as if you’re Gibbs, Tony. Why should we listen to *your* gut?”

“Talking of Tony’s gut – have you been over-feeding it these days, Tony?” Ziva poked a sly finger into the roll of flesh around his midriff.

“Hey!” Tony complained, pushing her away.

“Too many donuts I think.” Ziva winked at him.

Tony had a sudden, weary sense of déjà vu. Another day, another squabble in the squad room. Every day, day in day out, always the same.

At that moment, Gibbs swept into the room.

“Tony has had lunch,” Ziva told him. Gibbs raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Oh, I am sorry – I mean a *hunch*. Tony has had a hunch.” Ziva grinned, glancing pointedly at Tony’s belly all the same. Tony squeezed it surreptitiously. He didn’t think he’d put on *that* much weight recently.

Gibbs listened to his hunch without speaking. “We got any other leads?” he grunted when Tony was done. The team shook their heads. “Then I guess we’ll have to follow DiNozzo’s hunch if that’s the best you’ve come up with.”

So they had. Ziva had claimed the passenger seat, next to Gibbs, much to Tony’s annoyance. Ever since they’d rescued her from Africa, she and Gibbs seemed to have some special thing going. He had no idea what it was. Tony sat in the back, getting more and more car sick as the journey progressed. Beside him, McGee was snarking about something, and Ziva was snarking back, and Gibbs was saying nothing as usual, and Tony wanted to scream at them all to shut the fuck up, which was strange because usually it was him who talked too much.

McGee’s comment about Gibbs’s gut was bothering him, and he wasn’t sure why. It just kept going round and round in his head. By the time they reached the location of Collins’s hideout, his head hurt almost as much as his stomach. He rolled out of the car and was immediately sick on the grass.

Gibbs stood over him, looking faintly pissed off, in the way only Gibbs could. There was something in his eyes, something disappointed and…disgusted? Tony glanced up at him in surprise. Gibbs didn’t think he was drunk did he? He was never drunk on duty.

“We’ll go check out the barn, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said, in a tight voice, as if he already thought it was a complete waste of time. Tony couldn’t blame him for that. His job performance hadn’t exactly been stellar of late, and Gibbs was right – it probably *was* a giant waste of time.

“Like I said – too many donuts,” Ziva commented, looking down on the mess he’d spewed on the ground.

“You should take a leaf out of my book, Tony,” McGee said smugly, patting his trim, washboard stomach. “I gave up all that junk months ago. Never felt better.”

Tony was about to make a snarky retort when he felt another wave of nausea and threw up again. When he next looked up, they’d gone.

He sat beside the car for awhile and then opened it and found a bottle of water in the glove compartment. He swilled it around his mouth and spat it out to get rid of the taste of vomit and then drank it all down. He started to feel better and wondered where his team were. They’d been gone longer than he’d expected. He realised that he had as little faith in his “hunch” as they did. He’d expected them to go into the barn, take a cursory look around, and come back out again empty-handed.

He saw a rickety wooden staircase on the outside of the barn and decided to go take a look. If his team were in trouble then they’d need him…and he always looked out for his team.

He climbed to the upper level of the barn, opened an old wooden door, and slipped silently into the interior. He could hear raised voices – that didn’t sound good. He got down on his belly and slid towards the edge of the wooden gallery platform he was on.

His breath caught in his throat. Beneath him, his team was being held captive by the psycho bastard they’d been tracking.

Tony raised his gun. Gibbs was talking to the guy, trying to calm him down, but Collins was freaking out all over the place – and he was brandishing a giant machine gun. Gibbs glanced over Collins’s shoulder and saw Tony. He gave him a tiny nod, implicitly ordering him to fire.

Tony gripped his gun tightly, aware that if he got this wrong his entire team could be killed.

~*~

Tony paused, staring into space.

“How did that make you feel, Tony?” Farley asked. “Your entire team could be killed if you got this wrong. You said before that you pictured them as bodies on Ducky’s autopsy table. How did that make you feel?”

Tony clenched his fists.

“Tony?”

“Relieved,” Tony said softly. He looked at Farley defiantly. “There, I’ve damn well said it. I felt relieved, Doc! I felt like some great weight had been lifted from me. If they weren’t there anymore I’d be free. I wouldn’t have to go into work every day and play a role any more.”

He got up and paced around the room.

“You asked me who I’d be if I wasn’t defined by them – and the truth is, I don’t know, but at least I’d be free to find out. I’m so tired of it, Doc - I’m so tired of them. I’m sick to death of being their whipping boy. I always thought they *knew* that I only played at being an idiot – for fun, for attention, to keep people out as you said – all those things, but at some point they started to believe that the idiot was me. And I was too tired and pissed off by then to care. You knew, Doc.  You saw through me the minute I walked through that door, but my team, my *family* - they long ago stopped seeing who I really am.”

He paused and gazed out of the window. “It hurt, I guess. It hurt, and I kept on covering up that hurt like it didn’t matter. I thought they knew that what I do is more important that what I say, and I thought they remembered how often I’d taken one for the team…but the truth is, I don’t think they do.”

He turned back to Farley. “And I can’t say I blame them.” He gave a little shrug. “I can be over the top and inappropriate…I’m not blameless in this, Doc. I played my part in it for far too long. And as I was lying there in that barn, gun raised, I realised what a low fucking opinion they all have of me. Ziva thinks I’m an annoying bug – she doesn’t respect me and never has; McGee knows he’s ten times smarter than me and can’t wait for the day he’s promoted over my head; and Gibbs…well, at best Gibbs thinks I'm a total screw-up and at worst he thinks I’m a fucking alcoholic. And all I could think about was how free I would feel if they weren’t around any more.”

“You didn’t really want them to die though.”

“Of course not!” Tony gazed at the psychiatrist moodily. “I didn’t want them dead – I was just stunned by my reaction to the thought of it. It took me by surprise. That’s why I hesitated, and that’s why my hand was shaking and the sweat was pouring into my eyes. I was shocked that I felt that way. I had no idea. And I was ashamed of myself for it. No wonder I fucking missed when I did eventually shoot.”

“Maybe that wasn’t a mistake,” Farley said. Tony raised an eyebrow. “You knew that if you missed, Collins would turn and fire on you. In your mind, you’d just betrayed your family, Tony. Maybe you felt that you deserved to die.”

Tony went back over to his chair and sat down again.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I was too fucked up by that point to know anything. All I could think about was that feeling of overwhelming relief when I thought they wouldn’t be in my life anymore. I wouldn’t have to protect them anymore, I wouldn’t have to care about them anymore, and I wouldn’t have to see them ever again.” Tony bowed his head. “Am I allowed to feel that way about family, Doc?”

Farley sighed. “Families can be wonderful things – they can give love, protection and nurturing, and they can help us to fulfil our potential. But they can also be stifling, Tony, and the roles they impose upon us can be restrictive.  We can, quite simply, outgrow them. Most of us learn this when we’re young adults, but you had absent, neglectful parents and were sent to a series of boarding schools. You never had a chance to learn how to safely separate out from your family and find your own identity. You never even knew it was an option.  You mentioned the Oedipus myth yesterday, Tony.”

Tony looked up questioningly.

“In psychological terms, that myth can be read on many different levels – killing one’s father, marrying one’s mother. On one level, it can simply be a boy’s natural urge to become his own person as he grows up – to defy his father, form his own opinions, move outside the remit of his father’s control, take his own choice of sexual partner and so on.”

“It was just one tiny, shocking moment. I honestly didn’t want them dead,” Tony said softly. “I don’t want Gibbs dead.”

“No. But you’re angry with him all the same, aren’t you, Tony? You gave up a promotion out of loyalty to him, and your career has gone nowhere since. You led that team once, but he doesn’t let you into his confidence. He doesn’t treat you like a peer – so you don’t behave like one. He hasn’t let you grow, Tony, and you feel like you’re being stuffed into a box that isn’t big enough for you any more. You want to be let out, but you don’t know how to ask because he’s Gibbs, the man you’ve hero-worshipped for so long. You feel disloyal even thinking about it.”

Tony felt as if someone had broken him in two. “Yes,” he said at last, so quietly he barely heard himself.

“You mentioned being irritated by McGee’s comment about Gibbs’s gut,” Farley reminded him. “Why was that?”

Tony pushed away the denial that was ready to spring to his lips; he’d come this far. “I don’t believe in Gibbs’s gut any more, Doc,” he said quietly. “Christ, feels like sacrilege to even say it. But I don’t. He…I think he's made mistakes. More than one - and one very big one. Mistakes that could have cost us our lives.”

“Maybe he did. We all eventually have to learn that our fathers aren’t infallible, Tony. They’re only human. It might seem like they have superhero powers.” Farley gave a little grin. “But they don’t. They make mistakes, just like the rest of us.”

“But…” Tony shook his head. “If I don’t believe in Gibbs, then what do I believe in?”

“Yourself?” Farley suggested.

They were quiet for a long time.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Farley asked eventually.

Tony sighed. “Yes, but not with you. I know what I have to do now.” Farley raised an eyebrow. “You said something about growing up, separating out from your family – moving on?” Tony shrugged. “I think it’s time for big brother to leave home, don’t you?”

Farley smiled. “I think it’s past time, Tony.”

Tony got up, feeling apprehensive but strangely euphoric all the same. He held out his good hand to the psychiatrist.

“Well, thanks. Simon.” He gave a little grin.

Farley took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “You’re welcome, Special Agent DiNozzo.”

~*~

Tony was surprised he didn’t feel nervous when he went into the office the next day. He stopped in front of Gibbs’s desk.

“Can I speak to you, Boss? In private?” he requested politely.

Gibbs gave him a searching look and then nodded curtly. Tony led the way to the conference room without saying a word. He shut the door behind them and sat down at the table opposite Gibbs.

“How are you doing, Tony? How’s the shoulder?” Gibbs asked.

“It’s fine. Getting there.” Tony reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. He pushed it across the table. “Before you open it, I want to say I’m sorry. Oh – not about what’s in the envelope. I’m sorry because I lied to you. And yes, I know how you feel about apologies, but this one is important.”

Gibbs frowned at him. “You lied to me?”

“Yes. I wasn’t drunk that day in the barn. For the record, I’ve never been drunk on duty. All those times I behaved like an idiot, I did it stone cold sober.” Tony made a face. “I don’t blame you for jumping to the wrong conclusion there, Boss.”

Gibbs didn’t touch the envelope. He sat back in his chair and gazed at Tony speculatively.

“Oh, I’m not just saying that to get myself off the hook,” Tony said hurriedly. “I’m not in denial about being an alcoholic. Sure, I like a drink, and sometimes I drink too much, like that night you came around after I discharged myself from the hospital. But you like a drink too, Boss. You like your bourbon, and you can’t tell me you haven’t sometimes drunk yourself into oblivion under that boat of yours. In our job it kind of goes with the territory, doesn’t it?”

Gibbs grunted an acknowledgement. “But if you weren’t drunk…?”

“I know, what’s with the funky cologne?” Tony laughed. “What can I say? It’s the new Calvin Klein, and I’m a sucker for designer labels, Boss.”

Gibbs glared at him. “That wasn’t what I was going to ask.”

“I know. You were going to ask why I hesitated before taking that shot in the barn. I’m not going to answer that question, Boss, but if you doubt me about the drinking, just check my medical records. There was no alcohol in my blood the day I got shot.”

Gibbs nodded. “Okay. I believe you.” He reached across the table for the envelope, but Tony put out a hand and stopped him.

“Not yet. Wait ‘til I’m done.” Gibbs gazed at him questioningly. “I need you to understand why first.”

“Okay.” A flash of something passed through Gibbs’s eyes. Tony wondered if he knew where this was going.

“You made a mistake not trusting me over the Domino mission, Boss.” Gibbs opened his mouth to say something, but Tony interrupted him. “Feels like the whole of the last year has been about distrust, Gibbs: Moles, spies, lies – trust, distrust - thought you knew you could always trust me though, Boss.”

“I do, Tony. I always have.”

“Well, it sure as hell didn’t feel like it after the Domino mission.”

“I made a judgement call on that occasion. Thought it was for the best,” Gibbs said with an impatient shake of his head.

“Yeah, well, I know it’s not easy being the leader,” Tony continued. “That whole fiasco with Renny last year showed me that. I know you can’t keep everyone happy, and I know you’re sometimes going to make mistakes. I don’t blame you for that. That’s not why I’m doing this. I need you to know that, Boss.”

“Okay.” Gibbs nodded slowly. He sat back in his chair. “Haven’t seen you like this in a long time, Tony – not since the early days.”

“I know – and that’s my fault. I forgot who I was, Gibbs, and then you forgot too, and I was too stupid and too fucked up to remind you.”

“You’re reminding me now, Tony.”

“No, I’m explaining now, Gibbs. See, when we went out to Africa, I thought Ziva was dead. I thought we’d be bringing back her body at best. Then we found her, and she was still alive, and I was so damn happy and relieved about that, because I felt responsible for her leaving in the first place. Felt like her death was at least partly my fault.”

“Wasn’t your fault she went back to Mossad, Tony. I told you that. She gave me an ultimatum…”

“Me or her. Yeah – I remember.” Tony made a face. “So we went to Africa, and we brought her home.  That was the right thing to do, and I’ll always be glad we did it.”

“But?” Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

“But then you made another mistake, Boss.”

Gibbs’s eyes flashed. “Is that so, DiNozzo?”

“Yeah – it is, Boss. She lied to us. She betrayed us. I can forgive that, and I know you can too. She’s family after all. But then you let her back on the team.”

“We need her, Tony, and, like you said, she’s family.”

“Yeah - and you were the one who brought her into this family in the first place, and I always trusted your gut on that. Always did trust that gut of yours, Boss.”

“But not anymore?” Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

“No, Boss. Not anymore.”

Gibbs grunted. “Wanna tell me where you think I screwed up, DiNozzo?”

“You trusted her in the first place because she killed her half-brother for you. Not your fault – she played you. Then you found out that was a lie – she’d been ordered to kill him to gain your trust.”

“She explained that to me,” Gibbs growled. “And I believe her.”

“That’s fine for you.” Tony shrugged. “But it’s my life on the line out there in the field too, Boss. And McGee’s. And I’m not sure I want to be out there with her next time she forgets who she can trust. It hurt too much the first time around – next time it could be fatal.”

“Won’t happen again,” Gibbs told him firmly.

“Maybe. And I don’t mind you taking that gamble with your own life, but I don’t want you taking it with mine. Sure, welcome the prodigal daughter back into the family – that's fine – but it’s not like you’re just inviting her to join us around the table for Sunday lunch. We're federal agents doing a pretty damn dangerous job. We have access to sensitive information that other countries would like to get their hands on. Help her, take care of her – sure - but don't compromise the safety of the rest of us, and the country, by bringing her back onto the team."

"She isn't a danger to the team or the damn country!" Gibbs growled.

"Your gut tell you that?"

Gibbs glared at him.

"The other night, when you came to my apartment, you told me you wouldn’t let me back on the team until I sobered up. You said I was a danger to myself and everyone else – and if I *had* been drinking on duty then you’d have been right. It got me to thinking - why was I more dangerous than her? Why was my place on the team in jeopardy and hers wasn’t? Had I ever betrayed the team like she did? Hadn’t I proved my loyalty to you, over and over again?”

“What is this? Are you jealous, DiNozzo?”

“Closer to sibling rivalry.” Tony grinned. “Daddy can’t afford to have favourites, Boss. I know you always have though. I know it was first Abby and now it’s Ziva. I know you’re a sucker for those daughter figures – especially the ones in trouble. So first she was back on the team, even though she was still holding out on you about what happened on the Damocles. And then you were endorsing her application to become an agent, and it seemed like you’d forgiven her pretty damn fast – and that’s not like you, Boss.”

“My team, DiNozzo. My decision.” Gibbs crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

“My guess is that she said something to you that made you feel protective towards her. Maybe she played the daddy card on you – hate to say it, Boss, but you’re pretty predictable there. I know why – and I’m sorry for what you lost - but Ziva isn't Kelly. And the fact you let her play you makes me wonder if I even know who you are anymore.”

“So this is about Ziva?” Gibbs nodded his head in the direction of the envelope on the table.

“No.” Tony grinned again. “Surprisingly, it isn’t. I thought it was, because it’s been bugging me, but it isn’t about Ziva at all. It’s about me. Did you know that Jenny offered me my own team after you got back from Mexico, Gibbs?”

Gibbs looked genuinely surprised. “No, Tony. I didn’t know that.”

“I figured you didn’t. I turned her down. I was worried about you, and about the team, and, if I’m honest, I didn’t want to leave any of you. You see, in my head you were my family. Now I realise I was being naive. You’re not my family, Gibbs - you’re my colleagues.”

“Tony…”

Tony put his hand up, stopping Gibbs before he had a chance to say anything more. “Thanksgiving is a case in point. We didn’t have plans to spend it together. We never spend Thanksgiving together. Only happened this year because we worked a case so long that all our other plans were screwed. That’s not being a family, Gibbs – that’s being thrown together by circumstances.”

“Tony, when you work in life and death situations like we do, it brings you close. All those Marines I fought with felt like brothers to me,” Gibbs told him firmly. “In a way, we *are* a family.”

“And I’ve been trying to win daddy's love and approval for far too long,” Tony told him softly. “It’s unhealthy, Gibbs, and it has to stop. I have to make it stop.”

Gibbs stared at him for a long time, and then, finally, a look of grudging respect crept into his eyes, and he nodded.

“You can open the envelope now.” Tony pushed it the rest of the way across the table towards him. Gibbs tore his finger through it and fished out the letter inside. He read it silently and then looked up.

“Vance offer you your own team?” he asked.

“No.” Tony shook his head. “It'll be a cold day in hell when that ever happens. No - I’m leaving NCIS for good.”

Gibbs’s jaw tightened. “You gonna be a cop again?”

“No. I have other plans.”

"Team needs you, Tony."

"I know." Tony nodded. "And not so long ago, you saying that would have been enough to make me stay. But see, thing is, Gibbs - I'm done taking one for the team."

Gibbs stood up. "*I* need you, Tony."

Tony hesitated. "If you'd treated me more like your senior field agent…" he began.

"If you'd behaved more like my senior field agent…" Gibbs interrupted him.

Tony grinned. "Chicken or egg, Gibbs? Which came first? I'm not laying blame – I figure we both screwed it up."

"When did it start going wrong for you, Tony?" Gibbs looked as if he genuinely wanted to know the answer.

"I'm not sure. When Kate died? When you came back from Mexico? Or maybe when you left in the first place. 'You'll do' is hardly a ringing endorsement."

Gibbs grunted. “Is there anything I can say to make you stay?”

“Honestly? No.” Tony shook his head. “This isn’t a cry for attention, Gibbs, although I can see why, with my history, you’d think it was.” He gave a self-deprecating smile.

Gibbs ran a hand over his chin. “Gonna miss you, Tony. Team won’t be the same without you.”

“Yeah.” Tony sighed. “I guess I’m not the only one with a weakness for creating surrogate families, huh, Jethro?”

Gibbs went over to Tony and held out his hand. “Good luck, Tony,” he said softly.

Tony swallowed down the lump in his throat and pushed the hand aside. He pulled Gibbs into a hug with his good arm instead. “I won’t be coming back,” he whispered into Gibbs’s ear.

“I know that,” Gibbs replied, in a tight, muffled tone. He pulled back, and his blue eyes were glassy. “But you’re doing the right thing. Take care, Anthony.”

~*~

He'd only been home for half an hour when there was a knock at the door. He opened it and was immediately shoved aside as Ziva stormed into the room.

"You cannot leave," she told him imperiously.

"Actually I can." He shut the door and turned to find her standing right in front of him. He took a step back and placed a protective hand on his injured arm.

"Are you afraid of me?" She looked astonished.

"Last time I had my arm in a sling and you were mad at me, I ended up on my back on the floor with a gun pressed to my chest," he said wryly. "Afraid of you? No. Cautious around you? Yes."

"I apologised for that!" she exclaimed. "Is that why you are leaving, Tony? Is it because of me?"

He laughed out loud. "Not everything is about you, Ziva, even if it does seem that way these days. No, I'm not leaving because of you."

"I do not want you to leave. I cannot let you leave." She stepped forward and took hold of his face between her hands. "Do not leave us, Tony. Please." She leaned in and kissed him gently on the mouth.

He stood there, stiff and unresponsive. She pulled back.

"See, thing is, I can't tell if you mean it," he told her softly. "Because you already played Gibbs, Ziva."

"How did I 'play' Gibbs?" she asked, in a confused tone.

"I don't know for certain, but I'm fairly sure you pressed his daddy button. Maybe you told him he's the closest thing you have to a father now, after rejecting your own father."

"That is the truth," she whispered, looking stunned.

"Maybe it is." Tony shrugged. "The problem is that because I can't trust Gibbs's gut anymore, I have to go with my own instincts – and those veer more towards self-preservation these days. Let's just say I'm less trusting than I used to be.  Lies, false accusations, betrayal – they'll do that to a guy."

She brushed a hand over her eyes and her fingers came away wet. "I made mistakes, Tony, and I have paid for those mistakes, believe me."

"I want to. But, see, there's a little voice in my head that says I'm Tony DiNozzo and everyone knows I think with my dick. If there was any way of getting to me it'd be with sex – or the promise of it. Pretty girls throwing themselves at me and kissing me – well, that's how *I* would play me."

"I am not playing you, Tony. I…I have feelings for you," she told him.

"And I have feelings for you," he replied. "Fucked up ones, like the feelings I have for all the team. And I may be an idiot, but I’ve always had a healthy sense of self-preservation. I'd never get involved with you, Ziva. Not in the past, present or future. That was never gonna happen."

She looked like she'd been slapped.

"Sorry." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. She stood there, as stony and unresponsive as he had been earlier. Then she gathered herself together and went towards the door.

"Goodbye, Tony," she said quietly, as she opened it.

"Goodbye, Ziva," he said quietly, as he closed it.

~*~

"So you're really going through with this?" Jeff asked as he threw a suitcase onto the bed and opened it up.

"Yes, Jeff, I'm really going through with this." Tony opened his closet and surveyed his extensive collection of clothes. "Damn, it's gonna be tough choosing what to take."

"Take everything."

"Won't be enough room in the car!"

Jeff lay down on the bed and watched him pack. "You haven't told me where we're going yet. Is it somewhere hot? Hmmm…hard to tell by what you're packing." He peered into the case.

Tony threw a few sweaters into the case.

"More casual stuff than formal," Jeff observed. "What kind of job will you be doing? No, wait, don't tell me! I want to guess. This is so exciting." He giggled like a child. "It'll be like going on the run again. Bring back memories, Tony?"

"We're not going on the run again, Jeff." Tony rolled his eyes.

There was another knock on the door. Jeff sighed. "I'll go hide in the bathroom."

"If you want…but there's no need. Not anymore," Tony told him.

McGee was standing outside the door.

"Hey, come in, Tim. Hope you don't mind if I keep on packing while we chat? I'm gonna make an early start tomorrow and want to be packed up ready."

Tony returned to the bedroom. Jeff was nowhere to be seen - that was probably for the best.

"So you're really going then?" McGee asked, following Tony into the bedroom. "You're really leaving?" His eyes widened in surprise as he saw the suitcase on the bed. "I just assumed it was all some kind of giant Tony prank. Tell me it's all some kind of giant Tony prank, Tony!"

"It's not some kind of giant Tony prank." Tony grinned. "I really am leaving. I'm on medical leave for the next couple of weeks anyway and that, on top of my unused vacation time, means I don't have to work out my notice. "

"But why?" McGee looked genuinely upset. "Does it have something to do with getting shot?"

"Kind of." Tony nodded. "But not really."

"You're being annoyingly cryptic, Tony."

Tony threw a few more garments into the case and then opened up a drawer in his closet. "It's private," he said.

"Come on, Tony. Don't be like this," McGee pleaded.

Tony gazed at him thoughtfully. "Where were you, Tim?" he asked quietly. "I've been off work all week with a gunshot wound, and you didn't visit once."

McGee looked taken aback. "We went to Africa together, Tony. I was there, by your side, all the way. I've always had your six. Don't tell me you're leaving because nobody came to visit you this week!"

"No, that's not why I'm leaving," Tony replied. "Honestly – I'm not that petty, Tim. I was just…kind of disappointed I guess. Would it have killed you to drop by and take me out for a few beers?"

"Gibbs kind of hinted that you were dealing with something - something heavy," McGee muttered.

"All the more reason for you to drop by," Tony pointed out.

"I figured you wanted some time alone."

"You could have called and found out."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"Why are you being like this, Tony? It's like you're not even you," McGee said.

"You're wrong. I'm more me right now than I have been in a long time."

He saw the puzzled, upset expression in McGee's eyes and sighed. He went over to him, put his good hand on McGee's shoulder, and looked straight into his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Tim," he said sincerely.

"For what? You're freaking me out now!" McGee protested, shrugging his hand off his shoulder. "This IS some kind of prank, isn't it? I knew it!"

"No." Tony shook his head. "Look, I've been an ass. I've teased you half to death these past few years – frankly I'm surprised you didn't take a swing at me."

"I was tempted," McGee retorted.

Tony grinned and patted his cheek. "You were very restrained. Did I ever tell you why I left Baltimore PD?"

"What? No…I don't think so," McGee replied, looking confused.

"I was assigned this rookie kid. He was green, but he thought he knew everything – you know, the way kids do. I liked him. I treated him like a friend, let him have his head, and he got it blown off because nobody ever rubbed the rough edges off him and kicked him around enough to know he wasn't the great I am. I wasn't gonna make that mistake twice."

"What are you telling me, Tony?"

"That I sometimes lack judgement. That I went too far with the pranks and the putdowns. That you long ago stopped being a probie, but I didn't let up on you 'cause I was having too much fun. That you're a damn fine agent, but you should watch your tendency to turn into an arrogant little shit every so often."

McGee gazed at him, speechless. Tony turned back to his packing.

"Where are you going? Do you have a job lined up? What are you going to do?" McGee asked at last.

"A friend of mine, Ryan, runs a small local radio station in…well, it doesn't matter where. I called him yesterday, and he offered me a job as sports commentator." Tony straightened up with a grin. "Well, he figures I know sports, and I sure as hell know how to talk. Won't pay much, but it'll be enough to start with. I've still got some of the money my mom left me when she died. I do have some expensive tastes…" He picked up his favourite pair of shoes and cradled them affectionately before putting them in the case. "But I've always spent her money pretty wisely, despite everyone's expectations to the contrary."

"Sports commentator?" McGee was opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

"Yeah. I enrolled in a postgraduate degree class in film at the local university too." Tony grinned at him.

"Are you trying to be Tony DiNardo?" McGee asked suspiciously. "Wasn't that your undercover identity? Professor of film?"

"Yes it was, and no, I'm not trying to be Tony DiNardo. For the first time in a long time I'm actually trying to be Tony DiNozzo."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. Look, Tim, I don't know how the future will pan out. I don't know if I'll end up staying on the radio, or becoming a real life professor, or going back to being a cop, or what." Tony shrugged. "And that's kind of exciting. It's a fresh start. A blank slate."

"Same soul, different skies," McGee quoted. Tony raised an eyebrow. "Old saying – you can run away all you like, but you'll still be you, Tony."

"Not running away, Timmy. Not this time. Just moving on."

"You think you can? You think you won't miss us? You think you won't miss all the excitement and the adrenaline rush of being a field agent? You think you won't miss Gibbs?" McGee asked incredulously.

"I think I'll miss all of that and all of you," Tony said firmly. "But that's no reason to stay. Now, this has been nice, Tim, but I need you to leave now."

He ushered McGee to the front door. They paused when they got there. Then McGee wrapped an arm around his neck and gave him an awkward hug. Tony patted his shoulder just as awkwardly and then released him.

"Do not track the GPS transmitter in my cell phone to find out where I am," Tony ordered.

"I won't." McGee grinned.

"Or trace my credit cards," Tony said, with narrowed eyes.

"Scout's honour."  McGee held up his hand in the Boy Scout salute.

"Never actually believed you *were* a scout," Tony muttered. "Only boy scout I ever met who doesn't know what poison ivy looks like."

McGee grinned. "Don't annoy Ryan too much, Tony."

"I'll do my best." Tony grinned back at him. "Oh…here, take this." He took out an envelope from his jeans pocket. "Give it to Abby for me."

"She refuses to believe you're leaving," McGee told him. "She's shut herself in her lab and says she won't come out until we persuade you to stay."

"I figured." Tony nodded. "That's why I wrote her the letter – slide it under the door. She'll come out when she's read it."

"I'll do that. Well…bye, Tony."

Tony smiled. "Bye, Probie."

~*~

Tony returned to his bedroom to finish packing.

"He gone?" Jeff poked his head around the door.

"Yeah."

"I don't like him." Jeff came into the room and threw himself down on a chair in the corner, looking sulky.

"You're just jealous."

"He didn't call you or come visit remember?" Jeff said darkly. "I've always been here for you, Tony."

"I know, buddy. But then, if he and I had been as close as I wanted, I wouldn't have needed you, would I?"

"Why weren't you close?" Jeff asked curiously. "'Cause of that kid in Baltimore?"

"Nah. I guess the probie just found me too annoying. We never had much in common, and I never got the feeling he really valued what I brought to the team. Then again, I teased the shit out of him, so I guess I can't really blame him."

"He looks down on you."

"He knows he's smarter than me."

"You've got street-smarts, Tony - like me. Counts for just as much as book learning."

"Well, maybe McGee will figure that out now I'm not there anymore." Tony grinned. "'Cause I figure it'll take them a hell of a lot longer to solve cases without my flashes of brilliance and amazing investigative talents."

"They'll miss your ego too," Jeff snorted. "And your nosiness."

Tony laughed out loud – and then became suddenly serious. "Well, I hope they miss something about me," he said softly.

"They will." Jeff got up out of the chair and poked around in the suitcase again. "Did you say we're leaving tomorrow morning, Tony?"

Tony opened a drawer in his closet and sighed. He guessed it was time. Of all the goodbyes, he'd been dreading this one the most.

"Jeff, you're not coming with me," Tony said gently.

"What? But…but we're buddies!" Jeff protested. "Nobody ever treated me like you treat me, Tony. Nobody was ever nice to me before."

"I know, Jeff. And nobody ever liked me as much as you do," Tony replied. "That's why I kept you around. Well, that and the fact that nobody else wanted you."

"That's not nice!" Jeff protested.

"No, but it's true." Tony picked up the urn in his closet drawer. "You were at the crematorium for months and nobody claimed you, Jeff." He ran his thumb over the inscription on the urn: "Jeffrey White."

"You're sentimental, Tony," Jeff chided. "That always surprises me about you."

"Well, like I said to Gibbs at the time, I really liked you, Jeff."

"And I really liked you, Tony. Even though you killed me."

"Well, you *were* going to slit my throat," Tony chuckled. "And you had killed a few other people along the way. You weren't actually a very nice guy, Jeff."

"Then why did you bring me home and keep me around all this time?" Jeff looked at the urn over Tony's shoulder.

"I dunno. Lonely I guess. I lied to Dr. Farley about not having imaginary friends as a kid; I had dozens. It's a hard habit to break." He grinned at Jeff over his shoulder. "Wanted to connect with someone, Jeff, the way I never seemed to be able to do with the people at work. You didn't find me annoying or disappointing – you seemed to actually like me for me."

"You ever ask yourself why you find it easier to get close to your undercover marks than the actual people in your life, Tony?" Jeff asked curiously. "I mean, first there was me and then there was Jeanne."

"Because I had it backwards, Jeff," Tony said tiredly. "I was more myself with you and Jeanne than I ever was at work. I played a role at work, but when I was undercover, somehow I felt free to be who I really am."

"You're so fucked up, Tony. I like that about you!" Jeff broke into a little fit of giggles. Tony glared at him, and Jeff pouted. "I knew you should never have gone to see that shrink. I knew something like this would happen. I told you, Tony!"

"Yeah, you told me. Had to do it anyway; needed to do it, Jeff."

"What are you going to do with me?" Jeff asked, gesturing to the urn of ashes in Tony's hand. "Don't leave me here all alone, Tony!"

"I wouldn't do that to you, Jeff. How about I scatter you somewhere nice, huh?" Tony suggested.

"Like where?"

"How about a lake or a river?"

"You know I'm afraid of water, Tony," Jeff said reproachfully.

"Oh yeah. Forgot. Sorry." Tony grimaced. "Okay – well how about somewhere you can soar and float and be free? Maybe up in the hills?"

"My dad used to take me to a cabin in the hills and beat the crap out of me, Tony," Jeff reminded him.

"Ouch. Sorry – forgot about that too. Okay…I know where."

"Where?" Jeff asked eagerly.

"You'll see." Tony smiled at him in an infuriating way. "It's a bit of a trek, but it'll be worth it."

"A road trip?" Jeff looked excited. "We can be criminals on the run again?"

"Yeah, Jeff," Tony sighed. "We can be criminals on the run again – one last time, huh? Only without the handcuffs this time, because that really sucked."

~*~

Tony set off at dawn the next day. He'd packed up the car the night before; all that was left was his travelling bag containing various things for the journey – and Jeff's ashes.

He locked his apartment and left without looking back. He'd be staying with Ryan for a few weeks while he found somewhere to live locally. Then he'd come back and clear out the rest of his stuff.

It was the first day without his sling, but his arm was feeling a lot better, and he was easily able to drive. He set out on the open road with Jeff, both of them singing along to the radio. Tony felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. He was free! He was free of all the lies, deception and intrigue; free of the obligations and expectations; free of a role he'd long since outgrown. It felt good to be moving happily towards an unknown future rather than remaining stuck in an all too familiar and stifling present.

The journey wasn't anywhere near as bad this time as it had been the last – maybe because he was the one in the driving seat this time. He pulled up outside the barn and looked out of the window.

"This is it?" Jeff asked dubiously.

"Yeah. This is it, Jeff. You'll like it here. It's quiet and there are some sharp farm implements lying about; scythes and pitchforks – that kind of thing." Tony grinned at him.

"I can't actually use them, Tony," Jeff pointed out. "I'm dead."

"I know. I was there." Tony winked at him and got out of the car. He grabbed the urn containing Jeff's ashes from his bag.  "Coming?" He gestured with his head at the barn.

Jeff gave a tragic sigh and followed him into the barn. It looked different now; it was lighter, less threatening – although the absence of bad guys, machine guns and hostage situations probably accounted for that.

Tony climbed up to the upper level and walked along to where he'd been shot. He crouched down and picked up a handful of straw - there was still some of his blood splattered on it.

"Why here?" Jeff asked, looking around.

"Part of me died here, Jeff. Seems like a good place to scatter some ashes."

"Will you miss me?" Jeff asked.

"Sure." Tony grinned. "Best friend I ever had, Jeff, even if you are a complete psycho. But it's time for me to move on, find some new friends – real friends - maybe even make a family for myself – a real family. Anything's possible."

"Bye, Tony." Jeff gave him a sad little smile.

"Bye, Jeffrey."

Tony got up and opened the urn. He looked down onto the barn below and saw Gibbs, McGee and Ziva sitting there, hands tied behind their backs, frozen in time. Then he saw himself, lying here, gun drawn, hesitating.

He didn't hesitate now. He raised his hand and threw the contents of the urn into the air. The ashes flew up and then floated down into the barn below, covering the ghosts of the past. When the little grey cloud had dispersed, Jeff was gone.

Tony put the urn down next to the blood-stained straw and then turned and left the barn – alone. He opened the car door and then glanced back at the barn, one last time.

"Goodbye, Very Special Agent DiNozzo," he said softly.

He was smiling as he got into the car and drove away.

The End

Friendly feedback adored!

"Chained" is one of my favourite episodes of NCIS - I just love the "odd couple" vibe between Tony and Jeffrey White. I've always wanted to write a fic about them - so I guess this is it ;-).

If you enjoy my stories, you might like to buy my original character BDSM slash novel, Ricochet