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Previous part of Help, I Need Somebody.

***

"You may as well sit. I have a feeling this could take a while."

"You'd be wrong. I don't have to justify this my actions to you on this."

"Yes, you damn well do, J... Agent Gibbs. You lied to me about Tony."

"And just how do you know that?"

"After our last conversation... I started having your incoming and outgoing calls traced."

"Son of a..."

"Don't finish that phrase, Gibbs. You left me no choice. I have to know the whereabouts of my agents at all times..."

"Your agents?"

"I am the director of NCIS, as much as you like to behave otherwise. Now about Tony..."

"No."

"No?"

"No, I'm not giving you any information on why he's there, how he's doing or when he might be back. If he chooses to tell you, that's up to him. If that's all, I have paperwork waiting for me..."

"We're not done, Gibbs. What makes you think you have any options here? I'm your superior and I'm responsible for the welfare of every agent in NCIS. Now sit down and tell me what's going on."

Gibbs laughed, shook his head and turned back to face Jen, his expression showing her only what he wanted her to see.

"You really wanna go there? Hmmm? You won't like it, I guarantee."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Fine. You want both barrels... you'll get 'em. First off, you were a decent agent... but you were never superior to me and you never will be. Second, everything I've seen so far tells me you're a lot more worried about how you look and what the rest of Washington thinks of you than you are about the 'welfare' of anybody in this building. You don't really give a damn about Tony. You just need to show that you can make me toe the line, whenever and wherever. Not gonna happen."

"A member of your elite team is in a mental ward. That doesn't say much for your leadership style." Sheppard said coldly, her anger finally rising in response to Jethro's refusal to yield to her authority over him.

"I never had to tell McGee and the others I was worthy of their loyalty, Director Sheppard. I lead by example. Considering our past, I wouldn't trust you to water my plants and if I let slip what happened in Paris... neither would anybody else in this town."

"Paris was years ago."

"Not as many as you wish it was. You'll drop this and you'll leave Tony alone. When he comes back to work, you will not question him about it or I'll have to do something I don't want to."

"You wouldn't. It would do as much damage to you as it would to me."

"You forget I know the real story, not the one you passed off to our handlers as the truth."

Sheppard paled and felt her hands begin to tremble.

"You went along with it."

"At the time I still felt something for you... I felt obligated to protect you from a swelled head and lack of judgment. That was then, this is now."

"I see."

"You'll back off Tony and take that trace off our lines."

"Yes."

"Thank you... Director." Gibbs said, ice in his eyes and in his tone. Spinning on his heel, he strode out of her office and moved back down to floor level to find Tim had returned and was busy re-working a very cold case. Pausing, Gibbs lifted the front half of the open file folder to look at the date on the cover.

"This is fifteen years old, McGee."

"I know. We haven't had anything fresh come in yet, so I went looking through the old files... and this one caught my eye. There are things I might be able to do, avenues I could go down that weren't available with the technology they had back then. I promise, when a new case comes in, I'll put this aside, boss."

"Good. Meanwhile, keep working. What sent you into the cold cases anyway?"

"Tony. I was thinking about him... what he's taught me."

"I thought all he did was irritate you."

"I know it looked like that, but I've learned a lot from him. One of the big things he drilled into me was that the victim will always deserve justice, no matter how long the crime goes unsolved. If I can find something new for the family in this case, I'll feel better... like I made it up to Tony a little for treating him the way I did."

"When we finally get to talk to him, you remember to tell him that." Gibbs replied quietly, pushing his volatile emotions farther down inside him so his facade of calm and control would stay intact. "And if you solve it, tell him that too. He'll be proud of you... like I am."

Tim gaped slightly as Gibbs walked back to his own desk, but gradually a pleased grin curved his lips. Energized, he dug back into the file, more determined than ever to break it and earn a repeat of the atypical and precious gift his boss had now bestowed on him twice in two days.

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

LUNCHTIME:

"McGee, Ziva. Conference room two, let's go."

Tim rose immediately and walked off in the direction of the room Gibbs had indicated. Ziva however, hesitated.

"I was just going to lunch. Can it wait?"

"No. If it stays quiet you can have half an hour to get something later. Well?"

"Do I get to know what this is about?"

"Are you questioning me, Officer David?"

"No, of course not, but..."

"Then get your ass in the conference room. Tell the others I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Understood." She responded warily, standing and trailing after McGee. Gibbs picked up the phone and called down to security.

"Lobby."

"Freddy. Is my guest there yet?"

"Yes, sir. He's just about done. He should be up in a few minutes."

"Great. Thanks."

"No problem, sir."

Hanging up, Gibbs moved to a spot a few steps from the elevator, greeting Lewiston warmly when he emerged.

"Doc. Welcome to NCIS."

"Thank you, Special Agent Gibbs. This place is huge. I'm amazed..."

"My name is Jethro." The older man announced offhandedly as the two moved off side by side. Lewiston studied the other man carefully before replying.

"I think I've just been afforded a rare privilege. Thank you again."

As they reached the conference room door, Gibbs paused and locked gazes with the doctor.

"You're right... but you're about to earn it."

"I hope I can."

"So do I."

The two men entered and the group already occupying the room turned away from their private chats to greet Gibbs and the visitor. Excited to see Lewiston, Ducky stood and moved to greet him.

"So good to see you again, Doctor. Please, come in and have a seat."

Ziva's expression shifted instantly, somehow managing to look surprised, guarded and confused all at the same time.

"Doctor?"

After looking briefly to Gibbs for approval, Lewiston answered her.

"My name is Dennis Lewiston. I'm the doctor treating your colleague Agent DiNozzo over at Bethesda Naval Hospital."

"Treating him for what, may I ask? Perhaps lack of tact and chronic immaturity? You could only improve his sense of humor and his respect for women."

Lewiston gazed at Gibbs, one eyebrow raised.

"That's Ziva I take it?"

"I don't need to ask how you know."

"I couldn't tell you if you did."

The others smirked or chuckled quietly, while the woman in question merely scowled and looked as if she didn't quite get the joke. Gibbs let the amusement subside before speaking up again.

"Enough, people. Doc?" he said, gesturing Lewiston to a chair and taking one himself. Ducky exchanged a few more quiet words with the other doctor before reclaiming his own seat. Once the older man was settled, Abby, unable to repress her worry any longer, spoke up.

"Is Tony okay? I know you can't really talk about what he says or anything... I just need to know that he's alright."

"He is. He's doing very well, in fact. The wound on his arm is almost healed and he should be getting the stitches out any day now."

"You mean stitch, don't you?" Ziva snarked. "That little scratch couldn't have taken more than one."

"As a matter of fact, it took twelve. If you like I can give you the name and number of the ER doctor who treated and redressed the wound when it became infected."

Ducky groaned.

"Good Lord... let me guess; Anthony not only left his pills at home when he checked in, he never told anyone he was injured until he began to get sick."

"Sounds like you know him pretty well." Lewiston replied, grinning.

"Yes. As young Anthony neither likes nor trusts most doctors, I became his primary physician when he joined our little family. I bandage his scrapes and abrasions as well as dealing with the more serious physical consequences of simply doing his job."

"Should I warn him that he's in deep excrement with you when he gets back to work?"

"Indeed."

Lewiston laughed, but it died fairly quickly when he caught sight of Tim's pale, angry face out of the corner of his eye.

"Are you alright, Agent..."

"McGee, and no, I'm not. Not even close."

"Feel like talking about it?"

"It's nothing... I'm just mad at myself."

"Why?"

"For trusting a liar."

Ziva flushed and responded instantly.

"I did not lie. DiNozzo takes such delight in being juvenile, I assumed he was exaggerating how badly he was hurt just to garner more sympathy."

"And I went along with it. The things I said... I don't how I can forgive myself for siding with you over him."

"We're all kicking ourselves over what happened, Timmy." Abby told him, laying a soothing hand on his arm. "You're not the only one who's feeling guilty, but it'll be okay. We'll fix things."

"That's actually why I came here today... to help fix things. I'd really like to get each of your perspectives on the events of that night. The better I understand where you all were coming from and what you were thinking, the better I can help Tony understand it and the closer he'll get to forgiving himself and you."

"Himself? Why the hell does he think he has to forgive himself for anything?" Gibbs retorted.

"You'll have to ask him that when the time comes."

"Do you really think it will? Do you really think he'll want to see us and talk to us again?" Jimmy asked from his position beside Ducky near the far end of the table.

"Positive. I'm hoping that what I learn here today will help me get Tony to that point. Does anybody feel like starting?"

***

"Is it okay if I do?" Tim offered hesitantly.

"Of course. Go ahead."

Tim took a deep breath, not sure how to begin, but Abby's calming presence and a reassuring pat on the hand from Ducky bolstered his confidence.

"Okay... first, you need to understand that none of us... correction; almost none of us were aware how much we were hurting Tony that night. I said some things that, in hindsight, were pretty cruel, but at the time... I thought of it as teasing. See Tony and I... we tease each other a lot. It wasn't easy being on the receiving end at first, since I've gotten that kinda stuff pretty much all my life. I didn't understand that Tony was ragging on me for a reason. I finally got it when I stepped out of my first solo interrogation. I realized that the suspect hadn't rattled me and I had the information I went in there to get... and I suddenly knew I had Tony to thank. What initially felt like harassment had thickened my skin... taught me to speak up instead of ducking my head and keeping my mouth shut. If I hadn't learned that I was capable of pro-active instead of passive self-defense... I wouldn't still have my job."

"I'm sure that's not the case. You obviously have a lot going for you..."

"He's right." Gibbs interjected. "When Tim came to us he was a rabbit; shy, quiet and really unsure of himself. I almost started calling him Timid, just to see if I could raise his emotional temperature a little... but I knew that when a boss does it, a technique like that can backfire way too easy. Tony came through and kicked the kid in the butt, though. He started acting as if Tim had legally changed his name to Probie, meaning every time Tony wanted his attention, Tim got a reminder that he was a probationary agent who had a long way to go... and something to prove to himself and me. All I could do was sit back and hope that because they were closer to being on the same level, Tim would take it as a challenge, not an attack, like it might seem if it was coming out of my mouth. I wanted him to take all the potential I saw in him and make something of it. He's done that... just like I knew he could."

Tim grinned, but he was fighting back tears.

"So what am I now, boss?"

"Badger... working your way up to grizzly bear."

Tim swallowed hard, took a minute or two to regain his composure and looked back to Lewiston, continuing the story he had been leading up to and praying his gratitude was clear enough in his eyes that Gibbs had read it before he pulled his gaze away.

"Anyway, like I was saying, that night I thought we were teasing, as usual... until I really looked at Tony's face. I could tell he was hurt and confused, but then he shut down and the look was gone. That made me confused. I wanted to ask him what was going on, but he never gave me a chance. He grabbed his coat and his bag, told Ziva he was canceling on her offer to make dinner for him and he left. I looked at her and she was studying a paper on her desk with this... nasty, spiteful smirk on her face. I thought about the night before and the pieces started coming together. At the party, she told me that Tony turned down an invitation... but she never invited him at all."

"Was anyone else told the same thing?"

Abby and Jimmy raised their hands. "Agent McGee, how do you know your suspicion is true?"

"The morning we found out that Tony checked himself into Bethesda, Gibbs confronted her and she admitted it. She called Tony a child and said children don't belong at adult parties. I think Gibbs wanted to rip her a new one, but the hospital called and Tony became the priority, so it never happened."

Turning a calculating gaze briefly on Ziva, Lewiston studied the flushed, seething woman, wondering how much longer she would last under the onslaught of accusations and animosity, and what she might do when she decided not to suffer in silence any longer. Smiling grimly, she virtually dared him to direct a question at her, giving her an excuse to erupt, but instead he turned his eyes to the only other young lady in the room.

"Miss Sciuto?"

"Call me Abby."

"Okay. Thank you, Abby. Do you want to share your thoughts on what happened that night?"

"The party or after?"

"Either one."

"I'd love to... but I can't. I'm still too mad and when I get mad, sometimes I say things I shouldn't... things that could get me fired."

"Nothing you say will ever be used against you, Abs, I promise you that." Gibbs pledged.

"He's right." Lewiston added. "Anything revealed in this room stays here as far as I'm concerned."

"Okay...When I found out what she did I wanted to rip her face off and send it through a paper shredder and then dice up the pieces and go feed 'em to the tigers at the National Zoo."

To his credit, Lewiston evinced only mild shock and his smile was genuine, if a bit pained.

"Good grief. If you're that creative and imaginative in your work it's no wonder every agency in Washington would give their right arm to steal you away from NCIS."

Abby lit up.

"They would? Wait, how do you know?"

"I did a little phone research before I came over today."

"Well? Gimme! Who said it and what're they offering?"

Gibbs, McGee and Ducky chimed in almost simultaneously.

" " "Abby!" " "

"Chill, guys. I didn't say I was packing my bags, but once in a while a girl likes to know she's wanted."

"I ever hear you even thought of going over to the FBI and believe me, you'll be wanted... in four states and Canada." Gibbs growled. Lewiston laughed, but, diplomatically, made it a quiet one. Ducky repressed his urge to chuckle at the predictable family squabble and tried to get things back on track.

"Children! Can we please return to the subject at hand? Abby, dear, I think you were getting around to talking about the night after the party?"

"Right. Well, I'd been helping as much as I could that day, from back here in the office, so I knew the trouble they were in, but even before I found out how Ziva lied to us, I was way more worried about Tony than I was about her. It wasn't that long ago that he was framed for murder, you know, and I knew he had to be thinking about the time he spent in that cell, not sure if he'd ever get out, and he goes on what was supposed to be a pretty simple mission and there he is, locked up all over again. When they finally did get back I was so relieved that I hugged him before I realized he was hurt. I still feel guilty for that, along with about a million other things. Anyway, he yelped when I hugged him and I could tell he was really hurt. Unlike some people, I know Tony and he would never say it was worse than it was just to get sympathy. If anything, he downplays how sick he is or how much pain he's in so he can get back to work faster."

"If that were true, I'm sure you've interpreted it incorrectly. DiNozzo is simply afraid he'll be replaced with someone competent if he stays away from work for too long." Ziva snarked, arms crossed over her chest.

A glare overtook Abby's face that was worthy of Gibbs before his first cup of coffee and a growl sounded deep in her throat that a full-grown male lion would have been proud to claim. Tim instantly latched onto her bicep and the others, including Lewiston, rose and moved to support him in his effort to save her from an attempted murder charge.

"Abby, don't. She wants you to do it... don't let her win."

"He's right, Abs." Gibbs added quietly. "She's baiting you, girl. Every time you jump for it, it makes her happier. I know you don't want her happy..."

The doctor crouched on Abby's left, leaving physical restraint to the rest of the men and employing his specialty, words and simple common sense, to help calm the young woman down. Leaning close to her ear, he whispered to her, hoping he could get through.

"Okay, Abby, I need you to try and listen to me. You know she wouldn't have to behave like that if her own self-esteem was as strong as yours is. I suspect she doesn't really like herself very much, so she has to drag others down in order to feel powerful. Don't let her do that to you. Look at the friends that rushed to your side just now to make sure you wouldn't get in trouble. Do you see anyone doing that for her? You have choices here, Abby. Think about it... then make a decision. What happens next is up to you."

A moment later, Abby stopped straining forward against the hands wrapped around her arms and shoulders.

"You can let go now, guys."

Warily, she was released. Gibbs and Ducky expected her to go straight for Ziva's throat, but instead all she did was turn to the man still hunkered down beside her and gently touch his hand, which was braced on the arm of the chair to help him keep his balance. "Thank you."

"Anytime." He replied, grinning at her as he rose again to his full height. The smile vanished, however, as he turned to face Ziva. "Miss David. You're free to go."

"Excuse me?"

"This discussion is intended to help me learn more about Agent DiNozzo and the people he's closest to. It's obvious you don't belong in that category, so you really don't belong here. In addition, I only have another half hour to learn as much as I can today and your hostile, malicious attitude is a distraction none of us need. Please leave."

Color rose into Ziva's cheeks again and she turned her shocked expression on her boss.

"Gibbs..."

"He makes sense. Out."

Indignant and grim-faced, Ziva rose to her feet stiffly and moved toward the door. She paused for a moment when Gibbs addressed her again, then stalked out, slamming the door.

"Do you have work to do until the rest of us finish here or do I need to find something to keep you busy?"

"I need nothing from you."

The boom of Ziva's exit echoed through the conference room and the outer office for several seconds. When the group recovered, they all resumed their seats and continued the meeting.

"Abby, did you have anything else to add?"

"Not much. Just that I feel so guilty for not realizing how bad Tony was feeling that night. Sometimes, I get wrapped up in my own little world and I don't pay attention to other people as much as I should. All I could do was talk about the party and how great it was... now all I want is a chance to say how sorry I am."

"When he tells me he's ready to talk about forgiveness, I promise you I'll try to get you that opportunity, but it has to be up to him."

"I understand."

"Okay. In the last... twenty minutes or so, is there anything else any of you want me to know? I guess we should start with the stories of anyone else that was here in the office the night after the party. Nobody? Okay, let's just talk about Tony in general terms, then."

"You mean... like Tim did?" Jimmy asked.

"Exactly."

"Then... I'll go."

"Great. I'm sorry, your name is..."

"Jimmy Palmer. I assist Dr. Mallard. Tony calls me Autopsy Gremlin... but I'm not sure if he knows that I know that." Jimmy admitted with a shy grin.

"You don't mind the name?"

"No. Not really. I kind of did, until Dr. Mallard explained that Tony was pretty close to the man I replaced and the nickname is a way of welcoming me into the family, but keeping me at a distance at the same time, so he won't be hurt if I leave too."

"That makes perfect sense."

"Tony... he acts like he knows exactly how cool he is... but he has no clue. The things I consider cool about him would never cross... I mean he just can't see... sorry. This is hard. It feels like we're talking behind his back..."

Ducky reached over and patted Jimmy's hand while Tim gripped his shoulder lightly from the other side. The slight young man smiled again, took a deep breath and shot his friends brief, grateful looks.

"Are you alright to continue? You don't have to." Lewiston offered.

"I'm okay. So... what I was trying to say..."

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

DIRECTOR SHEPPARD'S OFFICE:

"Ziva, calm down and switch back to English, would you please? You know my Arabic isn't that strong."

"You said I would fit in easily... that they would accept me and trust that I was one of them within a week or two. That promise has been falling apart for some time and you have chosen to ignore the problem. Now... I expect you to do something about it."

"I can't force them to like you, Ziva! Especially when you keep planting landmines for the favored child to step on."

"Yes, well, I expected that when he finally did, they would see DiNozzo for the fraud he is and the field would be clear for me. Instead, the rest of them have rallied around that... weakling and built a wall to keep me out. My coming here was your idea, love and I've decided that I like this country very much. Fix this."

"I'll do what I can, but as I said..."

"It is what I say that counts..." Ziva purred, taking Sheppard's face in her hands and placing a quick kiss on her barely open mouth. "... or don't you like that game anymore? Perhaps I shall have to find a new playmate..."

"No! No... I'll make things better for you, I swear. Just... don't leave me."

"Good girl. Very good girl."

***

Just as Jimmy was really beginning to feel confident in speaking his mind, the door opened, startling him, and his words stumbled to a halt. Gibbs and Lewiston both looked up, frowning at the interruption and upset for Jimmy.

"Director." Gibbs greeted her sourly. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"You can end this unauthorized meeting immediately."

Gibbs rose and moved to stand close to her, grasping her elbow firmly.

"Outside." He told her, turning back to speak to the group, and Palmer specifically, "Go on, Jimmy. Finish what you were saying. I'll be right back." before guiding Sheppard forcefully out into the main office and closing the door.

"Don't you dare get angry, Gibbs. I'm within my rights..."

"As what, constant pain in my backside?"

"Gibbs."

Abruptly, Gibbs allowed the anger and frustration to leave his expression and replaced it with a mask showing deep weariness he didn't really feel.

"I'm sorry, okay? For that crack and for the scene in your office earlier. Since Tony... I'm just really concerned about him and I'll do everything in my power to help him get better. That's what this is about. You understand that, right?"

Sheppard's eyes widened and she gaped for a moment, unable to believe what she'd just heard. Jethro Gibbs had never said he was sorry for anything or to anyone, most especially not her. Luckily it didn't take her long to recover from the kick in the teeth he'd given her.

"I do."

"Thank you. Now I need to get back before our lunch hour is over..."

"Don't worry about that. Unless and until you get a case, feel free to keep this going. Stick with it as long as it takes."

"You mean that?"

"Absolutely. I'm not the unyielding harpy you obviously think I am, Agent Gibbs. I can be as sympathetic as the next person. Just keep me in the loop from now on and I'll bend over backwards to get you what you need."

"I appreciate it."

"I hope so. Now get back in there. Your team is waiting."

Gibbs nodded, favored her with a sweet smile and turned away to re-enter the room. The moment the door was once again closed behind him, however, the smile shifted and became a victorious, fiendish smirk. McGee's own grin was uncertain as he watched Gibbs settle back into his seat.

"Boss?"

"She's so off-balance a light breeze could knock her on her ass."

"What'd you say?"

"I apologized for yelling at her in her office."

"Apologized... but you never... wow. That must've freaked her out. I bet she was humming the 'Twilight Zone' theme all the way back up the stairs."

The room erupted in various levels of laughter. Gibbs even contributed a little himself.

"Entirely possible, McGee. Whatever else it did, it got her to reverse her decision. Unless we get a case, we can stay right here. Long as that's okay with your schedule, doc?"

"That's fine. This is going so well I wasn't looking forward to leaving without giving everyone a chance to speak. Mr. Palmer, I believe you were in the middle of a thought before we got so rudely interrupted."

"Well... all I was saying is that Tony... he doesn't understand himself really. He shows the world this... smooth, ultra-hip, sarcastic ladies man, but if you look in his eyes long enough... you see how hard he's fighting to make himself believe it so everyone else will too. I'm sure he doesn't think anybody's noticed this, but I can almost always tell when that fight is harder than usual for him."

"How?"

"When he wears his shades indoors. It's like his walls are weakening... and he has to add an extra layer of protection to keep people out."

Ducky nodded and hmmmed, contemplating Jimmy's words, then spoke slowly, his tone telegraphing the revelation he was coming to.

"You know... that could well be his problem with small children and animals. He's always assumed they simply don't like him... but they could be responding negatively to his self-protection and artifice. There was a young boy we were watching over not so long ago... he consistently stuck to Jethro's side and avoided Tony. I can see now why he might have instinctively chosen one over the other. The child could easily have interpreted Tony's reticence as lying. On the other hand, Jethro's self-confidence and candor would have engendered trust."

Lewiston raised an eyebrow.

"Very astute, doctor. Children and animals do seem to have emotional x-ray vision. May I tell Tony your theory? It could be a strong catalyst for the changes he's trying to make."

"Of course. Anything to help."

"Would you like to speak next?"

"I would, actually. My thoughts, however, are more about all of us as a group rather than strictly about Anthony."

"That's fine. As I said, the better I understand all of you, the better I understand Tony. Go ahead."

"Thank you. What you must understand, doctor, is that we are all very much a family. Perhaps the roles weren't assigned or arbitrarily thrust on us, but we all sense what our place is and we've taken it on willingly. Jethro... Jethro is father; stern and resolute when it's required, indulgent and patient when it isn't. Personally, I've never been able to choose between Dutch uncle and grandfather... I suppose I'm a bit of both. At any rate, as I never had grandchildren, Timothy, Abby and Tony fill those deficits for me. I do believe Anthony would be the oldest, a fierce protector and designated tormentor by turns, and Abby the youngest; the loving, sweet-faced child that noone can possibly deny anything to. Unfortunately, that leaves poor Timothy stuck smack in the center, filling the unenviable role of the middle child."

"The peacemaker and good kid who gets dumped on by both sides, but puts up with it because he knows that he'll get blamed if the oldest and youngest knock each other unconscious." Lewiston responded with a slightly wicked smile.

"Precisely."

Jimmy's face fell when his name wasn't mentioned. Tim opened his mouth to interject and correct Ducky's oversight, but Abby squeezed his hand in warning and shook her head. She then turned her attention to Jimmy, favoring him with a reassuring smile and silently nudging his attention back to Ducky. "When Katelyn was still with us, the four of them were closer than many actual siblings I've had the misfortune to encounter. Her loss... was devastating for us all. We still haven't quite recovered. When I was told about Tony... that he could've been yet another loss, and at his own hand... it only confirmed in my mind how powerfully connected we all are."

"I'm not sure I follow." Lewiston remarked, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"It's quite simple. Only family gets close enough to wound each other so profoundly. Being slighted and rejected by strangers or acquaintances... one can usually set that aside and go on with the business of living, but receiving the same treatment from people who are supposed to love you and to know better... that can cut to unimaginable depths. Knowing Tony, his first instinct when a second family dismissed him in such a heartless manner... was to finally decide that the fault lay with him. Merely contemplating that poor boy being so deeply hurt and then automatically blaming himself instead of the ones truly responsible..."

Unable to continue and embarrassed by tears he couldn't stop, Ducky dropped his eyes and turned in his chair so that he no longer faced Lewiston or the rest of the group. A few moments later his sorrow was tempered by a soft chuckle when three handkerchiefs were placed on the table beside him, one after the other. Lewiston smiled as Ducky chose one, quickly wiping the offending moisture away.

"Can I borrow one of those?" the doctor requested. "No blowing my nose, I promise."

Ducky laughed and passed another of the white squares to their guest. "Thank you. That was eloquent, brutally honest and extremely moving, Doctor Mallard, and I applaud you for being willing to voice your pain that openly. Very few people could manage that."

"Yes, well... the older one becomes, the less important it seems to keep one's innermost thoughts a secret."

Laughter burst out around the table.

"And the more vital it is that the younger generation see that courage and wisdom and learn from it. Well... does anyone else have a comment or a question? No? Okay, I guess we're done. Thank you all so much for doing this. The insight and information you've given me will be a huge help in my work with Tony."

Randomly, the group rose and moved toward the door, all taking a few seconds to shake Lewiston's hand and say good-bye. Abby, however, threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. After recovering from his shock, he laughed and returned the unexpected embrace. As she and Tim exited, Gibbs tossed the doctor a rueful smile.

"Not shy is she?"

"That's how she shows her appreciation. Like Ducky said... you're saving her big brother."

"I'm trying. He's doing a great deal to help himself. What I learned today can only speed and clarify the process. I really believe you'll get him back sooner than expected."

"Sounds like you haven't run into his stubborn side yet. Just don't give up on him."

"Not in my job description."

Gibbs grinned, shook Lewiston's hand firmly and walked out. Outside the conference room, Jimmy and Abby were having a heated, but sotto voce argument. She was trying to get him to talk to Ducky about his obvious omission of his assistant from the family structure. Jimmy was adamantly refusing.

"You know he wouldn't just leave you out, Jimmy. He must've had a reason..."

"It doesn't matter, Abby. I know I don't fit in... I don't really have a place with you guys and I'm okay with that."

"James." Ducky intoned darkly from just over Jimmy's shoulder. The young man turned slowly, head down, but Ducky didn't let that last long. In a flash, Jimmy's chin was tipped up and his gaze was locked into his boss'. "I didn't mean to hurt you. If I did, then I'm very sorry. I did, indeed, have a reason for not including you in my little discourse on office genealogy. You and I are colleagues... and good friends. I see you as much closer to being my equal than to being one of the brood."

"But that doesn't mean we don't care about you." Abby continued. "We do. It's just... different. Okay?"

"You mean it? We're friends?"

"I don't say what I don't mean, James. Now, shall we return downstairs and get some work done?"

"I'm right behind you, doctor."

***

When Lewiston entered Tony's room just after one-o'clock the next afternoon, he was presenting an even more cool, calm and collected demeanor than usual, having been forewarned by the nursing staff that Tony had woken up agitated and had only gotten worse as the day wore on.

As he closed the door behind him, he observed his patient silently for a few minutes, taking note of nervous gestures and edgy, uneasy behavior, before he spoke up.

"Tony? What's wrong?"

"Wrong? You're what's wrong! Actually, you know what? To hell with you and this place. I don't need this... I don't need any of it. I'll fix myself, damn it... who needs a stupid doctor anyway?" he muttered, pacing rapidly back and forth.

"I don't understand this change in attitude, Tony. What happened while I was away?"

"Nothing happened! I was just left here thinking... nothing to do but think. And then you didn't show up this morning and all I could do was wait and wait... stuck in this room getting more and more jittery... and you just kept not walkin' through the door! What is up with that, huh? Tell me!"

Lewiston recognized the fear and deep sense of abandonment Tony was drowning in and knew he had to address it, but a direct approach was not the way to go. He would have to calm him down first then come at the source of his emotional outburst obliquely and with caution.

"Tony. Tony, stop for a minute and look at me. Please... just stand still for one second and look into my eyes."

When Tony finally complied, Lewiston held his gaze intently, sensing that the intermission would only be temporary if he didn't break through right then. "Thank you. I'm sorry, Tony... and I'm here now. Can we sit and talk? You don't have to. It's your choice."

"Yeah..." the other man replied at last, running a shaky hand through his hair. "... yeah, I guess. But just for a minute."

"I appreciate it."

Lewiston waited for Tony to light on the edge of the mattress before taking his regular chair.

"I'd really like to tell you about my conversation with your colleagues yesterday, if that's alright."

"Whatever. Go ahead..." Tony acceded grudgingly.

"First of all, I learned a great deal from all of them... well, except for one. A very disturbing case..."

"Let me guess... Ziva?" Tony asked, cracking the faintest possible smile and only for a moment.

"That woman needs me a lot more than you do. I'd love to get her under my psychiatric microscope and find out what makes her so bitter and callous."

"She's Mossad. That should give you a few ideas."

"I see. It definitely explains a few things. Moving to the far opposite end of the spectrum, I could easily learn to adore Abby."

"She's a sweetheart alright... most of the time."

"I found that out when Officer David started denigrating you. Sweet Abby turned into a she-wolf defending a member of her pack. Once I asked the instigator to leave the room, though, Abby shifted back to what I assume is her normal, high-spirited self. She even hugged me as I was leaving."

"Yeah... that's my Abs. To a T."

"By the way, is she a singer?"

"Not that I know of. Most of the stuff she listens to barely has words. At least not ones anybody can understand. Her favorite performers don't sing so much as imitate howler monkeys being flayed alive."

Lewiston laughed warmly.

"I only ask because I found her breath control amazing. She got out more words on one intake of air than I've ever heard anybody manage before."

"Again... that's my Abby. She could talk a bunch of teenage girls into early graves and still keep going."

"Let's see... oh yes, Jimmy Palmer and Tim McGee; both intriguing and intelligent men. Listening to them provided me some very powerful insights. They seem to know you extremely well, and at the same time they're both harboring serious cases of hero worship. Fascinating. Gibbs... a consummate leader. If he ever decided to teach, there'd be nobody who could touch him. His student loyalty would be unrivaled and I'd bet that not a single child would leave his class with anything less than the absolute best grade they were capable of."

"That sounds right. I never thought about him being a teacher... but he definitely could. He'd be the ultimate substitute. One look at his face and no kid would dare try anything." Tony responded, his hands finally stilling as his body gradually released the tension he'd been hoarding for hours. "Did you, uh... you met Ducky before, when he came to see me, right?"

"I did, but we didn't really have much of an opportunity to talk in depth. I'm so glad he decided to participate yesterday. What an amazing man he is... wise, compassionate and a wicked sense of humor. When he explained how all of you have become like a family and talked about your roles, I was riveted."

Tony's eyes finally lifted a bit and he sought out Lewiston's open, forthright gaze.

"Family... yeah, I guess we sort of are. It's always there in the back of my mind... but I never said it. Wasn't sure how... or even if I should. If anyone could put it in words, though, it'd be Ducky. So... what'd he say? If it's okay for you to tell me, that is."

"I don't think any of them would mind me sharing their thoughts with you. We'll get around to everyone eventually, but let's start with Ducky, since we were already there. Apparently, you, Tim and Abby are instinctively siblings. You'd be the first born; fiercely protective, but not at all shy about kicking the other two in the behind when necessary or teasing them unmercifully just because you feel like it. Abby is the baby of the family; charming, beautiful and happily indulged by everyone who knows and loves her, but fully capable of pulling down the roof if she's angry, thwarted or betrayed. Poor Tim, I'm afraid, is left with the position of middle child."

"The buffer between the other two, the victim of every evil conspiracy his sibs can imagine and the one who ends up with the blame for every prank and stupid stunt the bookends pull."

"Bingo."

"Katie..."

"He didn't say much about her. Just that the four of you were very close and that her loss was overwhelming for the whole team. It's kind of hard to visualize a place for her in the structure Ducky laid out."

"Kate... she was my fraternal twin. On the surface, nobody would ever have said we were alike, but deep down... like looking in a mirror. That's why we fought constantly. I think we saw too much in the other one that we hated about ourselves. I respected her... God, did I, and I'll hold to that 'till my dying day. Katie was strong, smart, dedicated, braver than most men I know, in or out of law enforcement... but she had her own set of masks and man, did she know how to use 'em. That was our bond. Never let anybody in, never give up even a little bit of what's really going on behind the walls. She understood that..."

"I can hear how much you miss her... but you also sound angry."

"Angry? No... no way. Why would I be angry?"

"I don't know. Why would you?"

"I'm not. It's not like her de... it's not like it was her fault. She didn't wake up that day intending to go out and get sh... taken down by some terrorist."

Lewiston noted and filed away the reluctance to speak certain words in relation to Kate's murder, then continued on the track he'd been guiding Tony along.

"Of course not. Putting her life on the line was simply part of the job. The person you just described to me could have done nothing less."

"Right..."

"So why are you angry at her?"

"I told you, I'm not." Tony shot back, his anxiety and anger rebounding.

"Easy, Tony. I hear you."

"No. No, no, no..." Tony murmured, rising again and pacing erratically around the limited space. "Don't you say that about her. You didn't even know Kate! She never would've..."

"What, Tony? What wouldn't she have done?"

"Nothing! Nothing..."

"It's alright, Tony. Nothing you say will diminish Kate's memory or change what she meant to you and the others."

"Stop talking about her, damn it. I'm not talking about her..."

"Alright. What would you rather talk about?"

"McGee. Tell me what he said."

"Okay. He said the two of you tease and push each other's buttons a lot. It took him a while to realize that your side of the game had a purpose, though. He claims it didn't hit him until he stepped away from the first interrogation he performed on his own. He realized that he hadn't let the suspect fluster him, he'd gotten them to surrender the information he wanted and that you were really responsible for his success. What he'd initially taken as hounding and taunting was meant to... thicken his skin, in his words. It encouraged him to speak his mind more often and made him frustrated enough to defend himself and his ideas instead of backing down."

Gradually, Tony slowed to a halt. Shaking his head, he dropped down to sit cross-legged on the floor.

"I underestimated the kid... wasn't sure if he'd ever get that. Good to know he really does have instincts and intuition buried somewhere in that techie brain of his."

"He also told me his interpretation of the night you checked yourself in here. When he was talking about how wonderful the party was, he thought it would just be another round of kidding. He had no clue how badly he'd wounded you. None of your friends did."

"Ziva knew exactly what she was doing."

"As I said... your friends never meant to hurt you. After talking to all of them, I genuinely believe that."

"Yeah, well... I'm not ready to yet. What about Gibbs? I mean, I'm pretty sure I know where Ducky put him in the family tree, but..."

"Where's that?"

"He watches over us, disciplines us, teaches us, worries about us... everything a dad's supposed to do. I've almost called him that once or twice, but..."

"Bad associations. I understand."

"Besides, like I said... a dad really isn't what I want him to be in my life. Not outside work anyway. Ducky had to be grandpa, right?"

"Or indulgent uncle. He said he couldn't decide and finally settled on a little of both."

"Yeah... Ducky, he's the coolest. He always has time if I need to talk to him... though I'm mostly down there getting something stitched up or butterfly bandaged."

"He mentioned that. He's aware that you don't like doctors, but of course he doesn't know why."

"He never will, either. Look, I'm really sorry I freaked out on you when you showed up today. I just... I've lived through enough "Casablanca" endings to last me three lifetimes. Just the prospect of another one gets me worked up these days..."

Grinning, Lewiston stood and walked to Tony's side, extending a hand to help him up. Tony accepted and slowly made it back to his feet. After a moment, Lewiston gently tipped the younger man's chin up so their eyes met.

"I didn't get on the plane, Tony."

"No... This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship, Doc."

Lewiston snorted out a quick burst of laughter.

"I hope so, Tony. I truly hope so."

***

Tony sat on the bed, farther back and much more relaxed this time, and Lewiston reclaimed his seat.

"You're not leaving?"

"I set aside the afternoon for you."

Tony blanched slightly and his ' Me? Say something stupid? Never! Now watch me smile and recover masterfully.' mask clanged into place so hard Lewiston could almost hear it.

"You felt bad about being so late. You could've said something..."

"Ahhh... no. Bad form for a therapist. Too much chance it would sound like guilt and pressure."

"Yeah. Right... so we can keep talking?"

"Absolutely. This time it's up to you when we call it a day."

"Okay... okay, that'll work."

"Where were we? Let's see... would you like to hear Agent Gibbs' thoughts?"

"On me? No thanks. Delicate ears shouldn't be exposed to language like that."

"What makes you think anything he said was derogatory?"

"I don't know. That's how he is. He'll knock you on your butt just to see how many times you get back up. I think somewhere in his head there's a number and once I get past that... he'll ease up a little."

"You're his senior agent, Tony. Don't you think that's a pretty good indicator that you've achieved that goal?"

"No way. Not yet."

"C'mon, Tony. Whose opinion is that really?"

Tony grinned tightly, but didn't respond. "Okay... let's try this. Which mask do you think you use most often?"

"I don't have names for them. They're... connected to my emotions. When I need a particular one it's just... there."

"So?"

"Which emotion... God, I don't know. Probably uncertainty."

"That's a start. Now dig deeper."

"Deeper?"

"Go beyond the surface."

Tony scowled for a moment then turned his eyes down.

"Fear."

"Good. Deeper."

"There is no more."

"There's one more level. You can do it, Tony. Just try..."

"I can't."

"You don't want to."

"Same thing."

"Tony." Lewiston reproved gently.

"What? What do you want?" Tony shot back, lifting his gaze again.

"For you to get everything out of this process that you possibly can, and for you to leave here as close to being whole and healthy as both of us together can manage."

Tony stared, wide-eyed, for several seconds then nodded slowly.

"That... that sounds right. It's what I want. I'm just so screwed up... all that seems like a-a brass ring that I need binoculars to even see."

"You're not screwed up, Tony. I guarantee that. Confused, sad, a little lost, yes... but definitely not screwed up. I've seen men and women in here over the years... some of them were so damaged that returning to the world never became a reality for them. You are going home at some point and when you do... I want to know I've done everything I can to make sure you're ready."

"But you can't do it alone."

"I can try. I'm no superhero, but... I can give it a shot."

Tony chuckled brokenly and finally responded to Lewiston's earlier request.

"Insecurity. There are times I'm sunk so deep in it... I can't see a way out. Tim... he was right about the teasing and the nickname... and he wasn't. Part of it was seeing him as competition... a challenger for my place on the team. He can do things with computers I can't even dream of, he has a degree from MIT, for God's sake... They would've laughed in my face if I even knocked on the door. Sometimes I just feel like... the kid is breathing down my neck and waiting for me to really blow it so he can step in and take my spot with Gibbs. I know damn well it isn't true, but..."

"... but it doesn't matter."

"Right."

"You come by it legitimately, Tony. You have every reason to be insecure."

"Tell that to Gibbs."

"Why haven't you?"

"Are you nuts? He'd either shoot me or fire me, and at that point either would be a relief. Besides... sometimes I wonder if I have to tell him. He has x-ray vision. Sort of like you."

"Yeah, well, that comes with your master's in psychiatry. When they shake your hand as you cross the stage? You get the superpower as a little bonus." Lewiston joked.

"Cute. Not funny, but cute."

"You think Gibbs can see through you? He's got nothing on Jimmy Palmer."

"Do tell." Tony replied, sitting a little straighter and tensing a little.

"He knows why you sometimes wear your sunglasses in the office."

"He thinks he does."

"According to Jimmy, you only do it when you know your ' happy, happy joy, joy ' cover is slipping and you're feeling vulnerable. Apparently, you know your eyes really are the window to your soul and the shades provide an extra layer of protection when the walls around that soul are fragile."

Tony grew even more uptight and annoyed.

"Freaking little autopsy gremlin..."

"He knows about that too and he doesn't mind."

"Hell... what right do they have? None, that's what. I work so hard to keep them out and they just walk right in and help themselves? No... that is just so wrong. It's invasion of privacy, that's what it is! Damn them..."

"The nerve of them, daring to actually care about you. Absolutely tasteless and uncivilized." Lewiston mocked gently. Tony glared at him.

"Cut it out."

"Apologies. They do genuinely love you and worry about you, though. Abby especially."

His young colleague's face swam into his mind and Tony's anger slowly dissolved, replaced with regret and sorrow.

"I know. I've tried harder with her than any of the others... but she wouldn't give up on me. She wore me down until I had to let her in. She must be so twisted up over this. I never wanted to hurt her... I was just in so much pain I couldn't focus on anyone else but me. God... you know what scares me the most about getting out of here? She's gonna forgive me and try to keep loving me... and I won't be able to accept it, which will total our friendship, which will, more than likely, send me back to the bottle and the blade. History repeats itself... leaving me dead or a permanent fixture on the 'No Sharp Objects' ward."

"I care for you too, Tony... and I won't let that happen. You can get to a place where you'll be ready, willing and able to take whatever Abby and the others decide to give you, but you have considerable soul-searching to do first. Tony has to understand Tony better before he's strong enough to face the people he's hurt."

"Hold up... me? I'm the injured party, here! They disrespected me!"

"And you were contemplating taking yourself away from them forever. Ultimately, no matter how much real anguish you're suffering, no matter what anyone else did to break your heart and damage you, suicide is the most hurtful, selfish act a human being can commit. You'll have to come to terms with that eventually... but not until you're ready. Right now I need to ask you what you meant when you said losing Abby as a friend would ' send you back to the bottle and the blade '."

Tony was silent for several minutes, staring at Lewiston in shock. He didn't want to confront the truth, but it wouldn't leave him alone. The thought that he could cause as much pain as he'd received had actually crossed his mind more than once that appalling night. Abruptly he paled, shuddered and looked as if he were fighting off the urge to throw up. "Tony?"

"I... went home and started drinking that night... but it wasn't helping... it didn't do anything to make it stop hurting or make me less pissed off... so I went into the kitchen... and grabbed a knife out of the block... I just wanted it to be over... it was all too much and I was so tired..."

"What was too much? Why were you so tired, Tony?"

"The lying, the 'put on a happy face' bull-shit... I couldn't do it anymore... but I brought the knife down and laid the edge against my scar... and I couldn't do that either. Somehow... I knew it wouldn't change anything. Kate would still be gone, Gibbs would still be out of reach... and my father wouldn't give a damn. I screamed, threw the knife across the living room, called a cab... and came here..."

Abruptly, Tony lurched off the bed and stumbled into the bathroom, unable to suppress his gorge any longer. Lewiston followed, kneeling beside the younger man and rubbing his shoulders until the spasms seemed to be over. He helped Tony to his feet and provided a glass of water to rinse the vile taste from his mouth. "I can't keep going... it's a day." Tony offered wearily after a long moment of leaning on the edge of the sink and letting his breathing slow back down to something resembling normal.

"Agreed. You got rid of some serious poison today. I'm proud of you."

"Is that what the puking was all about?"

"Physical response to emotional upheaval. It'll probably happen again."

"Oh goody..."

"C'mon, let's get you back to bed."

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

4:30 P.M. : NCIS

"Yes? Officer David, can I help you?"

"It's good to hear your voice, little one."

Startled by a voice she recognized from deep in her past, Ziva quickly scanned the area to be sure she would not be overheard then responded quietly

"Shia... My God, my sweet Shia..."

"I know, you did not expect to hear from me, but I was asked to be the... go-between, just this once. I have missed you terribly."

"And I you. I don't understand. Why have you called? I thought..."

"The barriers have been let down... for a few moments at least. You must contact him as soon as you possibly can. He has received some information and he is not pleased."

"The usual method?"

"Yes. I must go now. Stay safe, my dearest love."

"Be well, Shia, my heart."

***

LATE THAT NIGHT:

Huddled close to her lover on the couch in Jen's apartment, Ziva sighed heavily and wiped a hand over her face. Sheppard held her tighter and softly asked the question they'd both been avoiding.

"Why would he contact you now? What could he have heard that would make him upset enough to go through Shia?"

"I don't know. I just don't know... though I can guess who does." She said, her tone growing dark and quiet.

"Gibbs wouldn't dare. I'm sure of it."

"Of course he would. I just don't have confirmation yet that he has. When I find proof of his treachery, that bastard will regret he was ever conceived..."

"You can't go after Jethro, love." Jen warned her gently. "It's a no-win situation, trust me."

Ziva pulled back and looked sternly at her lover.

"Can't?"

"I... I'm sorry. I meant it can only end badly. I'm speaking from experience, don't forget..."

"I thought we discussed and dismissed Paris long ago. You did what you felt you had to do."

"No, I did what was convenient and necessary. At least I thought so at the time... now I know better. Nobody turns on him or hurts him without paying for it. Officially, I'm in charge of NCIS, but he never lets me forget who really holds the power. Every single man and woman in that building would back him over me on a moments notice or follow him through the gates of hell if he asked them to." Jen ranted mildly, her words laced with old bitterness and anger.

"He is charismatic, but that can be easily overcome."

"It's more than charm. Something about him... people just respond, even strangers."

"Yes, I witnessed that yesterday. That doctor..." Ziva growled, her own acrimony bubbling to the surface briefly, only to subside a moment later. "Listen to me. I reprimand you for dwelling on the past then make the same mistake. We have more than enough to deal with in the present. Why don't you go get ready for bed, love? I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Of course." Jen responded, rising to her feet. At a nod from Ziva, the older woman dropped a soft kiss on her young lover's cheek. "Please don't let yourself get drawn in, no matter how angry your father is. You getting emotional with him never does any good."

Ziva's eyes instantly became hard and disdainful.

"Still trying to dictate to me? You really don't understand, do you?"

Sheppard took an uncertain step back.

"I do. I understand. I said please..."

"And you'll be saying it many more times tonight, I guarantee. Bed." Ziva told her, standing and pointing in the direction of their shared room.

For a moment, Jen stood there stubbornly, feeling misunderstood and wronged. She opened her mouth to defend herself again, but a further drop in psychic temperature and a few slow, quiet, menacing words from Ziva made her reconsider. In a moment, Jen's hands were locked together behind her back and her gaze had dropped to the tips of her shoes. "Think before you speak, Jennifer. Think very carefully."

"I apologize, mistress. I was wrong to presume that you needed guidance. I'm the one who's lost. I need you to show me the way."

"Indeed you do. Go."

Eyes still glued to the floor at her feet, Jen turned and left the room. Ziva watched her go, reluctantly pushing aside the titillating choice of what punishment to administer. Sighing, she moved to where her briefcase sat beside the couch, lifted and unlocked it. Reaching in, she pulled a small cell phone out of a concealed compartment, flipped it open and hit a button. Raising it to her ear, she spoke into the device.

"5781 6435. David, Ziva, Hedya." She recited mechanically, having gone through this routine many times. She waited two or three minutes and finally a voice spoke at the other end.

"Ziva?"

"Yes, father. What's wrong? Why did you need to talk to me so urgently? You know it isn't safe to communicate this way very often."

"All too well."

"You sound so tired."

"I am weary of the endless circles my position forces me to walk in, that is all."

"Then why did you contact me?"

"I have received... disturbing information, little one. I am praying you will tell me it isn't true."

"Go on." Ziva replied tensely, sitting forward on the sofa.

"Tell me it wasn't you. I beg of you, tell me you were not the one who took his life..."

Ziva paled and was forced to take a few slow deep breaths before she could respond.

"Father... for God's sake, no. I explained how Ari was killed."

"Ziva, my child... since you were very young we have had no lies between us. You knew precisely what I did every day and what the realities of our world entailed. Do not break that trust now..."

"I am not! My brother was lost and he chose to be involved with people who pulled him further into the darkness... a darkness that swallowed him whole. I tried to save him! Father, please..."

"No. No more, my daughter. It will be alright... I will make it so. You will come home."

"I... I can't. I have a job... and I have built a life. How can you even think of just asking me to walk away?"

"Ziva... I am not asking. You will come home."

"Father..."

"You have rarely defied me, little one. You were not pleased with the consequences when you did so..."

"I know... but I won't willingly give up what I have here. I can't..."

"Very well." Her father responded, his voice heavy with regret and sorrow.

"Wait, please..."

"Good-night, child." He said, breaking the connection. After that, Ziva sat utterly still for several minutes, lost in shock and visions of her carefully planned future crumbling around her. Eventually, she closed and replaced the phone, restoring the briefcase to its previous spot. She would safely dispose of the phone in the morning before she arrived at work. Rising, she slowly headed for the bedroom, all thoughts of a night of play banished by fear of what her father would choose to do and intense, blazing fury for Jethro Gibbs.

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

FOLLOWING MORNING: BETHESDA

As he entered Tony's room, Lewiston shifted the item under his arm so that it wouldn't fall and turned to close the door. Tony glanced up, a light smile on his face, but it swiftly faded when he saw what his doctor had brought to the session.

"That better not be what I think it is."

"Sorry to disappoint you. C'mon. Up on your feet, okay?"

"I'm not getting on a scale."

Lewiston carefully laid the slim, square, clear glass device on the floor then looked back up at his patient.

"Ordinarily, I'd say the choice was up to you, but not this time. I need you to do this for me."

"Why? It has nothing to do with the reason I'm here."

"You know better than that."

Tony sighed, rolled his eyes and finally complied.

"Fine." He conceded wearily, rising and approaching the scale with trepidation. "I hate these things... I don't own one. Too much of a temptation to get down on myself. " he explained, staring straight ahead.

Lewiston crouched down to read the display then pushed a few buttons. The read-out changed, he studied it, then repeated the procedure. He stood, patted Tony on the shoulder and released him.

"You can sit back down. How much do you normally weigh, give or take five pounds?"

"Anywhere between 150 and 160."

Lewiston frowned as he took his seat. "What? It can't be that bad. I exercise all the time..."

"I'm sure you do. It's not weight gain I'm worried about."

Tony blanched a little and swallowed hard.

"Yeah. Go on."

"You're down to 138. That's a real concern."

"Under 140? I can't be. It's not possible..."

"This worries me, Tony. We need to talk this out... see if we can work out where it started."

"You mean whether it's just a symptom of my depression, something medical or a separate disorder?"

"Exactly."

"Skip the last one. I'm positive it's not that. It's a combo of the first two. See... after I got out of the hospital, I was a total mess. They gave me this inhaler, but I felt like I was using the damn thing every five minutes, so I tossed it out. Of course then the coughing made my head and chest ache and I wasn't allowed to take anything but aspirin."

"Anything else might interfere or interact with your medication."

"You got it. Even the aspirin was a problem after a while... my stomach couldn't handle it. I was exhausted, nauseous... I couldn't even look at food. Basically, I existed on vitamin pills, canned broth, nutrition shakes, milk and juice for about a week and a half."

"But it got better."

"Yeah... eventually everything calmed down and I wasn't coughing so much... so I went back to work. Then... God, it seems like it was only a few days later that... that Katie was gone. It turns out grief and rage are the world's best appetite suppressants. After that, it felt like it just never stopped. I got locked up for a murder I didn't commit, I had my little incident in the hotel room... in the middle of all that, making sure I got three squares a day just wasn't all that important. Stupid, I know. The fact that I was getting less than four hours of sleep a night didn't help my judgment any, I guess..."

"No, I'd have to agree there."

"It just got to a point where all I wanted was to find someplace dark and quiet, where I could close and lock the door and just hide forever... a little room where I could pretend I was never thrown away like a rotten banana peel by a person who was supposed to love and protect me, I never spent days in isolation, wondering which breath would be my last... and I never had to lay a flower on the coffin of someone I loved. That's what the knife was supposed to help me find. Darkness and silence... and peace. I could see it so clearly and I wanted it... God, I craved it. It was all right there in front of me... then I looked down at my wrist... at that damned, barely visible scar. When I did that the illusion cracked... and so did I..."

Abruptly, Tony leapt up, stalked to the wall and began pounding one fist into it, fiercely and rhythmically. Lewiston went to him and wrapped one arm around his waist, tugging him backwards a little and speaking softly to calm him down.

"It's okay, Tony... everything's okay..."

"No it's not! I'm not a weakling... I can't be! I'm an athlete, I'm smart and strong, I'm a cop and a Federal agent... I'm not allowed!"

"Easy, Tony... easy."

"You don't understand! I have to be strong! I have to eat, I have to stop being angry and I have to stop missing her!"

"You will... you will."

"But I don't know how!" he wailed, teeth gritted. Backing toward the bed, Lewiston sat down, pulling Tony with him. When a nurse's concerned face appeared at the small pane in the door in response to the pounding, he shook his head and waved her away. Cradling the younger man against him, Lewiston absorbed Tony's sobs and struggles and poured constant reassurance into his ear.

"You'll weather this storm, Tony, I promise you that. I won't let you drown. Just don't let go, alright? Keep holding on..."

***

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

DUCKY'S HOME: THAT NIGHT

"I'm worried about you, Don. You look so tired lately."

Ducky sighed, closed his eyes and settled deeper into the arms of his lover, silently thinking that there had to be a more descriptive, more accurate word than tired. Over the past few days he'd begun to feel his energy level drop and drop until here, locked safely in Gerald's comforting embrace, the master coroner felt as if every moment of his many years was lying heavily on his chest.

"I'm sorry, my love. So much is going on... I'm simply feeling a bit overwhelmed, I suppose."

"Don't apologize, just talk to me."

"I've tried. I trust you with everything I feel and all I am, you know that."

"But I've never had children."

Ducky instantly reacted to the almost undetectable trace of hurt in Gerald's voice.

"Now I didn't mean..."

"I know you didn't. My turn to say I'm sorry. I'm soaking up your emotions again..."

"I treasure your deep empathy, Gerald. It's one of my favorite things about you, I've told you that a thousand times..."

"Yeah, well it isn't helping much right now, is it?"

"Just being close to you is a great help. Knowing I have somewhere warm and safe to escape to is enough."

"Usually."

"Always. The situation with Anthony is just so frustrating. His doctor is excellent and I believe he's doing all he possibly can to help the poor boy heal... but I feel as if there has to be more I can do. When I looked at him through that door, just for a moment..."

"You saw Steven."

Ducky gave no response, but Gerald didn't need one. "It's alright. I'm proud of you for going to visit Tony, even knowing you'd have to face the memories."

"Tony isn't my son... I know perfectly well he isn't. His being in that tiny, bare room isn't my responsibility. Still, in that instant I could have sworn..."

"Tony's going to get well, Don, you have to believe that. Depression is a far cry from schizophrenia... and you didn't cause either one."

"So you continue to tell me. It's an old battle, love..."

"Old and ongoing."

"Yes, well, you're still no closer to winning me to your point of view."

"That doesn't mean I'm giving up."

"Thank God for that. I really don't know how I'd cope if you did. He told me he knows about us. Has for some time."

"And?"

"He's very pleased that we found each other and more than willing to be discreet, though he seems to think that discretion may be a moot point, at least among close friends and colleagues. According to Tony, anyone who took more than a cursory glance at you and I would have easily seen how deeply we're in love."

Gerald chuckled and stroked his lover's back tenderly.

"None of them had time for anything deeper than cursory. Your little trick with the stories is guaranteed to drive anyone but Gibbs or Jimmy back to wherever they came from. If they ever found out you only do it to get them to leave..."

"Yes, you're going to keep that to yourself, aren't you. I may be feeling two hundred years old tonight, but I believe I have enough energy to tickle you within inches of vomiting..."

"I don't doubt it. No need to demonstrate. How's Jethro holding up, by the way?"

"Giving his usual brilliant performance."

"He should know by now that anyone who really knows and cares about him doesn't buy it."

"He doesn't think anyone truly knows him. Or I should say that he hopes they don't."

"If nobody gets past his barriers he can't be hurt again... but nobody gets to love him either. That's really pretty sad."

"He and Tony are very alike that way. If only they could both just drop the walls, they'd see how much healing they could provide each other."

"You know it isn't that simple, love." Gerald countered gently, pulling his lover closer to him. "You're a perfect example."

"I did tell you about Steven."

"But it took you years. Even when you did finally let me see that pain, it came out in pieces, over the course of several days. That kind of secret hurts more when you let it go than it ever did holding it in."

"Yes... but at least Anthony now has Dennis Lewiston on his side, working to help him let go of the darkness he's been hoarding inside for so long. Jethro..."

Ducky's sentence trailed off as the buzzing doorbell interrupted him. Gerald persuaded his exhausted lover to stay on the couch and let him answer the summons. After gazing through the tiny security lens he opened the door with a rueful grin, finishing Ducky's thought and announcing their visitor all with just three words.

"Jethro has us. "

"Gerald. You're looking great." Gibbs greeted his old friend.

"Thanks. You aren't, though. C'mon in."

"I'm fine." The older man grunted as he stepped far enough in to allow Gerald to close the door again. A look was exchanged between the lovers that said 'Weren't we just talking about this?' and Ducky did his best to match Gerald's smile.

"Jethro, is something wrong? Is Tony alright?" Ducky asked.

"He's fine as far as I know."

"Then to what do we owe this visit?"

"I don't know. I didn't feel like getting drunk and falling asleep under the boat again, I guess. This was stupid... sorry, Duck. I'll go..."

"No, please don't." Ducky pleaded, rising to his feet only to find his weary legs trembling under him. Gerald rushed to his side and held him up.

"Time for bed, love."

"Yes... yes, I think so."

"Jethro, stay here, alright? I won't be long."

"Gerald..."

"Please. There's something you need to see. Trust me, you won't regret it."

Releasing a frustrated breath, Gibbs nodded and sank down into a chair. Within twenty minutes, Gerald returned. "This way. The elevator's over here."

"Elevator?"

"What I want to show you is in the basement."

Reluctantly, Gibbs rose and followed Gerald into the small cab and stoically endured the brief ride down to the lowest level of the house without making snide comments or insisting that he really should be at his own home, drowning in his usual method of stress relief.

Stepping out into darkness, Gibbs held his spot until Gerald turned on the lights. What was revealed confused Gibbs completely and he moved warily over to investigate and try to understand what he was seeing. Boxes, buckets and bags of ceramic items, from decorative figurines to chipped cups and saucers, lined the farther wall, and above them on hooks were a pair of heavy gloves and two sets of protective goggles. Turning, he looked down and found a line drawn across the cement floor in white paint and, perhaps thirty feet ahead of the line, a six foot high, four-foot wide cinderblock wall.

"What in the hell..."

"It started out as a way to help Don's mother, but all three of us have used it at some point." Gerald told him, choosing an item at random from one of the containers and handing it to Jethro. The young man then reached up, plucked the goggles from their hook, slipped a pair on Gibbs and donned the other himself.

"Now what?"

"Fling it."

"Come again?"

"Fling it. This is a place where you don't have to be strong or brave or whatever you think the outside world expects you to be. Down here... pissed and frustrated is a very good thing."

Gibbs stared at the coffee mug in his hand, then focused on the cinderblocks.

"You?"

"Don showed me all this when I stopped seeing progress in my PT a few months back. I was convinced my shoulder would never be a hundred percent and I was furious and in pain... so I came down here and started flinging Hummels and crockery with my good arm. Don stood right beside me, talking to me non-stop, until I felt like I'd gotten it all out."

Gibbs looked at the mug one more time, frowning and trying to justify breaking it just because he was frustrated. Gerald sensed his thought process and responded. "Don and I pick this stuff up at garage sales, yard sales and thrift shops for a quarter or fifty cents a piece. Fling it, Jethro. It helps... I swear, it helps."

After bouncing the mug lightly in his hand a couple of times, Gibbs finally gave in and sidearmed it into the cinderblock wall, grimacing as it exploded and scattered chiming shards across the floor. For a long moment, he merely studied the debris, unsure what to make of it, but eventually he looked back to the box nearest his hand then up to Gerald's calm face. "Go on. Choose another."

Gibbs did and that piece met the wall with less reluctance. "That's it. Take another one and do it again. Good! Again. Keep it up, Jethro. There you go! That's the way..."

The more items Jethro broke, the more rage and sorrow showed in his expression. As the mess piled up at the base of the wall, he even released a restrained scream or two and a few unbidden tears. An hour later, the basement ceramic collection was short fifteen pieces and Jethro was crouched close to the floor, curled into himself and panting faintly. Gerald knelt beside him, squeezing and rubbing his shoulder. "Better?"

"Hell, yes. Can I..."

"Anytime you need it. You don't even have to call. Day or night, just show up and one of us will be here for you."

"Thanks."

"No problem. No problem at all."

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

FOLLOWING MORNING: BETHESDA

"Doctor Lewiston?"

Looking up the paperwork he was finishing up, Lewiston gazed at the young man standing in his doorway, struggling to determine where he'd seen him before.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

My name is Brad Pitt."

"Oh yes, infectious disease. I thought I knew your face. Please, come in and sit down."

"Thank you." Pitt said, taking him up on the offer and claiming one of the visitor's chairs on the other side of the desk.

"What can I do for you?"

"It's about Tony DiNozzo. I was the one who took care of him when he was here with pneumonic plague. I just found out he was back. I went to the medical service first, of course, thinking it could be a recurrence of lung problems. When they sent me up here... I couldn't believe it."

"It's good of you to worry about him."

"We didn't spend all that much time together, I admit, but he really impressed me. He tried to stay positive, even when he had to know his condition was becoming critical. How he pulled through I'll never understand..."

"Would you like to see him?"

"That would be great. Only if you think it wouldn't upset him."

"On the contrary, I think it would do him good. I was just about to go visit him myself. You're welcome to come along. As a matter of fact, you can do me a huge favor..."

***

Lewiston waited and looked over a few charts while he waited for the other doctor to hunt up the items he'd been asked to gather. When the younger man returned, the two men headed for Tony's room together.

"I still find this hard to believe. The man I treated in that isolation unit was such a fighter..." Pitt mused as they walked.

"He still is. What he's battling now is just too big for him to handle, so he asked for help."

"I'd hate to think... can you at least tell me if it's organic?"

"No, thank God. He started to sink under the weight of too many emotional traumas in too short a time period, that's all. I'm bringing him through them one at a time, helping him understand how they all led up to the event that led him here."

"So he'll be alright? Eventually?"

"I have high hopes."

"No signs of breathing difficulties?"

"No. He does have about a dozen stitches in one arm, but I had him checked out and they're healing well now. They should be about ready to come out, actually."

You couldn't get a hold of the doc who helped you out initially?"

"He's on a week's vacation. In addition to being good for Tony, you were also a very lucky break for me. Don't get me wrong, I'm very grateful..."

"Hey, don't worry. I'm just glad Tony has someone on his side. "

"Here we are. Thanks again for doing this."

"No problem. I'm glad to do anything I can to help. Tony and I... we got to be pretty close while he was recovering. I actually called him a stubborn bastard when he insisted on going back to work a week early. He wasn't physically ready, but he wouldn't listen. He kept saying the solitude and his own cooking were about to kill him. I gave in. Stupid..."

"Don't. It wasn't your fault. I have it on good authority that he has a deep-seated distaste for doctors in general, so, even though he liked you personally, he would have found a way out from under your care one way or another. Shall we go in?"

"Yeah. If you're right, he isn't going to be happy about this, so the sooner I get started, the sooner it'll be over."

Lewiston unlocked the door and both men entered single file, Brad dropping the bag filled with medical equipment and tools near his feet. When Tony spotted his former doctor, his eyes lit up, he rose and moved to embrace his friend. Curious to see how the conversation would play out, Lewiston stayed quiet and took his usual seat, intent on remaining in the background unless he genuinely felt his colleague needed backup.

"Brad! Damn, it's so good to see you!"

"You too, Tony. I'm so sorry I didn't come before now, but I just found out you were back. Are you okay?"

"Gettin' there. It's slow and all uphill... but I'm gettin' there."

"Uphill with the emergency brake on, maybe. C'mon, sit back down before you fall over."

"Don't you start. He's already nagged me about my weight." Tony protested mildly, even as he allowed Brad to guide him back to the bed.

"This isn't nagging, it's concern for a friend. It must've been really hard to work up an appetite when you went home from here last time."

"Yeah... more like impossible."

"I can see it, You've lost, what, ten pounds since I saw you last? Maybe more?"

"Tony glanced sharply at Lewiston, ready to accuse him of betrayal, but Brad overrode him. "He didn't tell me anything. I have eyes, Tony. Talk to me."

"Twelve. According to him and the stupid scale anyway."

"Damn, Tony... why didn't you come to me? I would've helped you figure something out."

"I thought about it. In the end I handled it on my own. No big deal."

"Tony."

Sighing heavily, Tony shrugged.

"I know, okay? I know..."

"It's been months since you've been checked out, right?"

"Yeah." Tony replied carefully, sudden tension lifting his shoulders and straightening his spine a little.

"Then let's correct that."

"I don't think so..."

"Hey, remember our motto? The one you came up with?"

"Immoveable object, meet irresistible force."

"And..."

"The irresistible force, which is you, always wins."

"Right. A quick exam, just to catch up on how you're doing. Twenty minutes, tops."

Tony sighed again and frowned.

"I'm perfectly fine."

"I know you are. This is for my peace of mind. Okay?"

"Check the stitches." Tony conceded, holding out his arm. "If they're ready to come out, you can do that. Anything else... is up for negotiation."

"I'll take what I can get." Brad responded with a grin as he peeled back the bandage to get a look at the wound.

"Damn... that had to hurt. How'd this happen, anyway?"

"Bullet. It's a long story."

"It always is with you, but I've never minded listening."

"You were the only one who didn't. I appreciated that back then."

"Rival schools didn't mean we had to be enemies. This looks really nice. I can definitely get these stitches out for you. You don't want anything to dull the sting, I assume."

"Have I ever?"

"No, double M, you never have. I'll just get on it with it then."

Lewiston finally spoke up, wondering about the nickname.

"Mighty Mouse?"

"No. Mucho Macho. Don't look at me like that, he picked it." Brad chuckled. "So? Give with the tale of daring do, Tony, my man."

"I was on assignment down at the shipyard in Norfolk. Can't tell you any details..."

"I work at a military hospital, I know all the restrictions. Just talk..."

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

NCIS:

Engrossed in the computer program he was endeavoring to make function, Tim was surprised to look up and find Abby was no longer on the stool beside him. Circling his neck to relax the muscles, he gazed around and saw his lover huddled in her tiny office, hugging her hippo to her chest. Sighing quietly, he left the computer to run through the tasks he'd set it and moved to her side, determined to draw her back out into the lab.

"Abby? What is it?"

It took almost a minute for the young woman to finally look up and meet his eyes, and the pain and anger Tim saw there broke his heart. "It'll all work out, Abby, I swear it will. We can talk tonight, but right now we have to work on this program. Gibbs really needs this information. Come back and help me?"

The only response Tim received was a tightening of Abby's arms around her stuffed animal, causing a whoopee-cushion like sound to emerge. "Okay..." he said, crouching in front of her chair. "... I understand how sad you are right now, but..."

Scowling, Abby sat forward and swung the hippo, smacking Tim solidly in the face and producing another inappropriate noise. He fell sideways, flailing his arms as he toppled over. Rising, she stalked out of the office without a word. When he got his breath back, Tim rushed out after her, only to be attacked with fur and stuffing once more. "Abby! Cut it out... whatever I said, I'm sorry..."

"You... don't... understand... anything!"

"Ow! I can see that... but will you... stop hitting me with Bert, please!"

Despite his pleas, Abby chased him around the lab until she heard the door open and turned to see who was entering.

"Abby."

"Gibbs..."

"Drop the hippo."

"You didn't hear what he..."

"Drop the hippo, Abs, or you'll never see another Caff-Pow. Ever."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

Reluctantly, Abby passed Bert to the older man when he held out his hand. Placing the toy on the counter, he flitted his gaze to Tim and back to Abby.

"Go on upstairs, McGee."

"Yes, boss." He responded gratefully, making his escape.

"Gibbs..." Abby began, only to have him interrupt and sweep her into his arms.

"I'm mad too, Abs... so mad I don't know what to do with it all, sometimes. You gotta channel it... make it work for you, like you did with the stunt you pulled on Ziva. What you can't do is take it out on the innocent geek who loves you..."

"I could've cold-cocked him with the GC mass-spec... or electrocuted him."

Smiling, Gibbs pulled back a little to stare into Abby's eyes.

"So I should be admiring your restraint?"

"Absolutely." She responded boldly just before she dropped her gaze to the floor, suddenly looking ashamed. "No."

"That's better." He praised, tipping her chin back up with one finger. "It's not his fault."

"Tim or Tony?"

"Two guesses. The first one doesn't count."

"I know. I just started thinking about him not being here anymore, not because some bad guy took him out, but because... I got really pissed at him. I should apologize to Timmy..."

"Do that. And after work, you bring him over to Ducky's. I've got something to show you."

***

SIMULTANEOUSLY: SHEPPARD'S OFFICE:

Ziva leaned against her lover's desk, frowning at the floor. Despite the closeness and intimacy they had shared for so long, Ziva was determinedly holding back about her conversation with her father and Sheppard was worried.

Ziva finally spoke up, musing about the topic she wanted to discuss, but Sheppard wouldn't give up.

"I'm telling you it is a good idea, Jennifer. You need to do it. There should be no possible way to question the opinion of a government-approved psychologist. We simply have to hope that he is weak enough so that our viewpoint can easily become his. It doesn't even have to be anything particularly severe... if he will affirm even the slightest tendency toward permanent mental instability in DiNozzo, it will be enough to assure that Gibbs' little pet can never show his face here again."

"Ziva... love, why won't you tell me what happened?" Sheppard pleaded, coming around the desk to face the other woman. Moving close, she stroked Ziva's shoulder gently and laid a soft kiss on her furrowed brow. "I know you're upset about the call, but all you can talk about is this plan to keep Tony from coming back to work."

"I talk about it because it is all that matters right now."

"You matter to me... and I know you're in pain."

"I am... disturbed, yes, but nothing is certain. It is impossible to know what my father will do, so it serves no purpose to dwell on it. I can only deal with what is in front of me. At the moment... that means Tony."

"Alright... but if you need me..."

"Believe me, you will know. Don't you always?"

"Hmmm, yes. Always..." Sheppard responded, a dreamy smile slowly blossoming on her lips. "So... back to convincing everyone that Tony is unfit..."

Ziva went through her idea one more time and Sheppard nodded, agreeing that it sounded more than plausible. "I can't really get out of here for about an hour..."

"An hour is fine. As long as it's done soon. Gibbs needs to understand that his actions have consequences..."

Frightened by the sheer rage she heard in the younger woman's voice, Sheppard stepped back, her eyes widening.

"Ziva? What the hell is going on? What has Jethro done? He has something to do with the phone call from your father, doesn't he?"

Reaching out, Ziva shoved down on Jennifer's shoulder, driving the older woman to her knees.

"What is my third rule, Jenny?"

"Don't push. Pushing leads to punishment."

"Continuing to talk about my father... is pushing."

"I'm sorry, mistress... I didn't think before I spoke..."

"You rarely do. And you have no idea what regret truly is, but you will tonight. The penalty I overlooked will be added to the one you just earned."

"Yes, mistress. I understand."

"Good. Now get up."

Sheppard rose to her feet, but her gaze stayed on the carpet and away from the woman who, when she chose, could assume instant control of Jennifer's heart, mind and soul with nothing more than a touch or a word. Ziva growled under her breath, took a deep breath and consciously cleared her expression, knowing how vital it was that the surface not reflect the depth of anger she was truly feeling. Once she was certain she'd succeeded, she walked slowly out of the office and back down to floor level.

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

THIRTY MINUTES LATER: BETHESDA

Still playing fly on the wall, Lewiston struggled not to burst out laughing at the scene being played out before him. At some point in the next few days, he planned on stopping by a local sports store and purchasing a small trophy for Brad Pitt, engraved to acknowledge undaunted persistence in the face of exceptionally mulish, willful behavior.

"Tony, you're acting like a three year old."

The only response Brad received was a tongue briefly extended in his general direction. "Make my point, why don't you? For God's sake, I didn't ask you to breathe as if you're planning to free-dive the Great Barrier Reef. I said take as deep a breath as you can manage."

"And I said go play in traffic."

"No thanks, but I'm ready to toss you under a bus."

"Just try it." Tony growled, pulling away from Brad's touch once again.

"You can't do it can you? Not without coughing, I'll bet."

"You'd lose."

"Ducky will know, for sure. I can just go call him and ask..."

"No! Leave him alone. He's got enough to deal with."

"Then talk to me, damn it."

Tony glared down at his crossed arms and huffed in irritation.

"Freaking doctors always assume... It's not what you think, okay? I don't have a hell of a lot of reserve energy right now. What I do have is invested in eliminating some pretty ugly mental scars. I don't have the strength right now to worry about my damned treacherous body."

"You can't separate the two, Tony." Lewiston finally interjected. "They're intrinsically connected."

"Of course I can split them off! I do it all the time. When I'm doing something physical and active, it's easy to shut my mind down and just let my body do what it's been trained for. When I'm reading or doing research at work, I don't think about whether I'm hungry or thirsty or have to hit the head." Tony responded defensively. The sudden intrigued gleam in Lewiston's eyes told his patient he was in for a session once Brad was finished. To his therapist's amusement, Tony rolled his eyes and groaned. Brad turned Tony's head toward him with a hand on his chin and spoke to him gently.

"I understand you're low on pretty much everything right now. Like I said, I can see it."

"So why am I wasting time and effort fighting you off? I'm good at fighting... and I don't know any other way."

"I'm not telling you to stop. Just let go of the idea that you personally have to wield every weapon in the armory. I can fight too, Tony."

"I get that, I do... I'm really grateful, doc, even if I don't act like it sometimes." Tony responded, turning his gaze to Lewiston.

"I know." The older man replied simply, favoring Tony with an understanding smile.

"You also know how long I've had to watch my own back."

"You share that with Jethro and Tim, now."

"Shared. Past tense."

"Yes, well, that's a future discussion. The point Brad and I are trying to get across is that you don't have to lay down your sword. All we ask is that you allow him to use his knowledge and skills in your defense, the way I have."

"How quickly we forget yesterday's tantrums."

"That was a legitimate release of pent up emotion. I know the difference. What you were pulling on Brad was a tantrum, albeit a mild one."

"Ha-ha. Fine, I surrender. Bring on the stethoscope and the tongue depressor and whatever else you can think of. Short of the one taboo item you swore never to inflict on me again."

"Now, Tony, what fun would an exam be if I didn't give you a shot? Or at least threaten you with one."

"No. I mean it, Pitt. No needles."

"We'll see."

"Not 'We'll see', not 'Maybe', not 'I reserve judgment'. No needles, or you and the horse you rode in on can evaporate!"

"Here we go again..."

"Hey, you know better than anyone why I'm practically phobic about the things!"

"Of course I do, but..."

Brad let his thought trail off and turned his head toward the door, listening. A moment later, the other two followed suit, their attention drawn outside the room by the sound of a strident argument becoming more and more audible. Lewiston rose, moved to uncover the source of the noise then looked back to the pair on the bed.

"You two stay here and work things out. I'll be right back." he told them, slipping out the door. Approaching the trio that was still bellowing at each other, Lewiston pushed the three people apart and turned to the one he recognized, a nurse he had worked with for several years and trusted implicitly.

"Barbara, what's going on out here? We can't have this..."

"I'm so sorry, doctor. This woman insists she be able to see Agent DiNozzo. I tried to explain that only one visitor is on his approved list, and it certainly isn't her. She wouldn't listen..."

"It's alright, Barbara. You did well. Go on back to your duty station."

"Thank you, doctor." The woman said, breathing a sigh of relief as she hurried away. Lewiston now turned to the pair that had caused the disruption. "May I ask who... wait. Director Sheppard, correct?"

"Yes."

"My apologies. We didn't see each other very long the other day and I wasn't exactly focused on intrusions into what we were trying to do. Can I help you?"

"This is Dr. Markette. He's the consulting psychologist for our field office and I insist that he be allowed to evaluate Anthony DiNozzo."

"No. Anything else?"

"No?"

"Your hearing is obviously in working order. Good for you. If we're finished, I need to get back..."

"Doctor..."

"You have your answer, Director. You may wield considerable power at NCIS, but I'm the big shot here and I decide what is and isn't in Tony's best interests. Even if I were to let this man interrogate my patient, which I won't, Agent DiNozzo doesn't know him from Adam and has no bond of trust with him. Send a stranger in there firing off idiotic questions and Tony will most likely withdraw and shut down, the end result being stress, trauma and a massive waste of everyone's time. Therefore... no."

"I'm sure he'll be just fine if you stay with him. You'd have to agree not to interfere, of course..."

"Maybe your hearing isn't as good as I thought."

"That's enough, Doctor Lewiston..."

"I completely agree. If you can't find your own way out, I'll call security and they'll escort you out of the building."

"You have no right to refuse an independent assessment of his condition, doctor, and I'm sure there are multiple ways you can be compelled."

"Do whatever you think you have to, Director. You aren't getting anywhere near Tony while I still have the authority to stop you."

Whirling on his heel, Lewiston left a gaping Jen Sheppard behind him in the hallway and raced back to assure himself that Tony was alright.

***

Unfortunately, Lewiston's hopes were dashed. Before he even got to the door his ears told him Tony was in trouble. Stepping inside, he saw Brad physically supporting Tony and trying to talk his friend down from a severe bout of hyperventilation. Swearing under his breath, Lewiston rushed to assist.

"Tony, relax. It's alright... c'mon, buddy. You can do it..."

"Look at me, Tony. Slow down... slow your breathing."

Unable to speak, Tony shot Lewiston a look of sheer panic and mouthed 'Can't...'

"Okay. It's alright, Tony, I'll help. Close your eyes. It won't be easy, but just go with me. I know what I'm doing, I promise. I need you to count backwards from ten in your head. Slowly... as slow as you can manage. Show me on your fingers so I know when you're done. Excellent... three... two... one. Now backwards from fifteen, counting in threes. You can do this. This is nothing for you... Good. Back from twenty in fours..."

When he finished, Tony stared at Lewiston in shock as he realized his breathing had eased considerably. Swallowing, the younger man croaked out a one-word question.

"How?"

"When your body is going crazy, your mind can make it worse. You get too focused on how scared you are, making you even more scared, and it all spirals out of control. All I did was redirect your thoughts. Here, lay down and rest for a while. We'll talk about what triggered this episode once you've recovered a little more."

Once Tony was helped down onto his side, his blanket draped over him and tucked in around his shoulders, Lewiston tugged Brad over to the door to question him.

"What happened?"

"I wish I understood it. He heard you talking to Sheppard and suddenly his eyes went wide. He started repeating 'It's gone, it's all gone' over and over..."

"Damn that woman..."

"I'm sure she's just doing her job."

"No. No way does she have Tony's best interests at heart."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I spent time with the people who do. That's all it took to help me learn the difference. I'll make a call later and find out what was really behind that lame-ass attempt to get at Tony."

"My God... she really upset you."

"Infuriated me is more like it. C'mon. Tony's waiting..."

As the men approached the bedside again they were relieved to find Tony fairly relaxed, though his breathing was still a little unsettled and irregular. Lewiston crouched and spoke Tony's name softly, but the only response he received was a noise reminiscent of an elderly, badly maintained car being asked to start on a bitterly cold morning. He chuckled and decided gentle humor wasn't out of place now that the young man was no longer in crisis.

"Oh, that sounded optimistic."

"Not funny." Tony shot back faintly, his voice slightly rough.

"I thought it was, but then panic attacks tend to temporarily dull a person's sense of humor. You'll laugh later, I guarantee."

"No... not a panic attack. I don't panic..." Tony countered, surging up into a sitting position and beginning to breathe harshly once more.

"Easy... easy, Tony. You need to try and relax..." Brad warned, but the words only made Tony more stressed out.

"I am! I didn't have a... panic... attack! Why won't... you believe me?"

Lewiston grasped Tony's face in both hands, locked their gazes together and spoke quietly.

"Tony, stop. You're over-reacting. We're not trying to provoke you. That's the last thing either of us want right now. Slow your breathing... and calm down. Good... much better."

"Sorry..."

"Don't. You have nothing to apologize for. This wasn't your fault." Lewiston assured him, dropping to the edge of the bed as he released his hold. "Can you tell me what happened while I was gone?"

"I... I heard her voice... Sheppard. I knew if she was here then everything I cared about... every damn thing I'm in here working to get back to... it was all lost. My career, my life, maybe even my apartment, if I can't find another job... all of it, just... dust in the wind."

"That won't happen, Tony. Jethro and I won't let it."

Tony merely grunted, but Lewiston had a good idea of what his response would have been if the two of them had been alone. When Brad slid the bell of his stethoscope onto Tony's back a moment later, the younger man seriously considered shrugging the offending object off, but he was simply too tired, so he allowed it to stay.

"Don't make any major effort, Tony. Just normal breaths... that's it. Nice. Stay relaxed..."

"You tell me that one more time..."

"I know, I know. Bang, zoom! To the moon, Alice! Just quiet down for a minute, will you? I need to listen."

Fifteen minutes later, Brad had checked Tony's lungs, his blood-pressure and his heart and was convinced his friend was doing well for the moment. As he packed up, however, he took the risk of angering Tony again, knowing his conscience would never leave him alone if he backed down. "Everything seems to be fine. Your pressure's a little high, but not enough to really be worried."

"I've been under a lot of stress."

"I know. That's why I'm coming back to give you a full work-up. With Dr. Lewiston's permission, of course."

"I don't have a problem with that." The other doctor agreed.

Tony's head came up suddenly and he glared at Brad.

"You better be kidding."

"Do I kid when it comes to your health?"

"There's a first time for everything..."

"This isn't it."

"Damn it..."

"I let you slide, Tony. If I'd kept up with you, kept in touch..."

"No. My being here isn't your responsibility. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I also didn't do what was right. If I'd made you come in, maybe I would've seen how you were feeling before it got this bad..."

"If is a really useless word, Brad. You know damn well I'm a shape-shifter when I feel like it. You saw what I wanted you to."

"True. Okay, so I'll stick the 'why didn't I' routine where the sun doesn't shine. That doesn't change anything. I still won't rest easy until I know for sure that you're completely okay."

Tony sighed and winced.

"That means needles, right?"

"I know I promised, but blood tests are essential, especially with a recent infection, no matter how minor."

"God..."

"You know what an expert I am. You'll barely feel it."

"I hope your guilt over that gigantic lie costs you some sleep tonight. Can we do it day after tomorrow? I've got lost time to make up for with the world's second biggest noudge." He requested, shooting a sidelong glance at Lewiston, who smiled brightly and replied.

"I consider that a compliment."

"You would." Tony grumbled, but the tiniest hint of a smile curled his lip, proving that he wasn't feeling nearly as cantankerous as his words might suggest. Brad grinned and finished gathering up the things he'd brought with him.

"I'll see you day after tomorrow, buddy." Brad intoned quietly, squeezing Tony's shoulder. Tony briefly acknowledged the supportive touch, patting his friend's hand and gazing evocatively into his eyes.

"I know I'm a pain in your ass sometimes. I don't mean to be. There are reasons... things I've gone through that I'm not ready to tell anyone but my therapist. Not yet anyway. Thanks for understanding... and for not leaving me on the battlefield all by myself. I wouldn't be here now if you'd given up on me all those weeks ago..."

Fighting back tears, Brad crouched, dropped his bag and fiercely embraced the other man. Pulling back a few moments later, he swiped at his face and corrected Tony's assumption.

"You're the one who inspired me, Tony... you and that incredible bunch of people you work with. I've never seen faith like that before and I doubt I'll ever witness it again. Abby and the others... they took your strength and will to live and just multiplied it until every single person in the hospital believed you'd survive. Find that will again, Tony... find it and hold onto it. Between the three of us and your support system at NCIS, you'll get back on track, I swear. Just don't let go, okay? Promise me..."

"I promise. See you in two days."

"Two days."

After a final, quick hug, Brad retrieved his gear and left. Tony stared at the floor for several minutes before he found the fortitude to look up at Lewiston again.

"I didn't know. I was still so sick in the first couple days outside the isolation unit... I barely remember anything. I don't understand it. If they felt like that, how could they be so cruel just a month or two later? It makes no sense..."

"I agree. Let's go catch a few rays and have some quiet time in the sun-room. Then we'll come back and see if we can't straighten it out."

***

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