AN: Spoilers for episode "Deja Vu". This one shot - because I will *never* be finished angsting about the disaster that was the 'season of oh hell no' (S13). Sorry not sorry.

Tony lay awake, staring into the dying fire and wondered why he was still here. The arctic air settling over DC and widespread power outages sent them all scurrying to find places to sleep. The last of them with electricity at their residence, Gibbs grudgingly suspended his campaign of hostility toward him and opened his home to his team.

He could see the others felt at home and being here should have warmed him too; reaffirming his place among this group of people who were so important to him. It didn't. Though it remained unspoken, they both knew Tony was only included so Gibbs didn't look like a complete ass to the others.

He recalled his awkward discomfort as they'd settled in their places to watch the movie. Even his half-hearted attempt at the old brotherly bickering with McGee didn't restore any sense of normalcy. Gibbs was in his recliner, Bishop buried under blankets on the old sofa, he and McGee huddled in sleeping bags in front of the fire. Holiday Inn was playing on Gibbs' ancient television and any other time, he'd have enjoyed the movie classic. The scene was so cozy and heartwarming on the surface, while beneath it was anything but.

Cool indifference was the closest Gibbs could come to being civil to him tonight. For months he'd been making it abundantly clear Tony didn't have a place on his team and was just biding his time while Tony got with the program. He'd asked, had been waiting for Gibbs to tell him something; anything to explain how he'd become an outcast in the midst of this team, and a pariah in Gibbs' eyes.

He was an outlier now…separate; that thing not like the others. As with outliers, it seemed his fate was to be tossed aside, discounted as extraneous and unnecessary.

At that thought, he was unable to stand pretending he belonged here any longer, and carefully extricated himself from the sleeping bag. Taking care not to wake McGee who was snoring softly next to him, he rose and donned his boots and jacket. He took a last look around the room where he'd once felt so at home. His heart ached and eyes stung at the sheer coziness of a scene he wasn't really a part of, even if he were to stay.

He stealthily crept out the front door, missing the slitted blue eyes fixed on his back as he exited.

The drive back to NCIS only took a fraction of the usual time in the middle of the night. As he cleared security and settled in at his desk, he looked around the dim and quiet bullpen. That same feeling of wrongness and isolation he'd felt in Gibbs' living room fell over him again like a shroud. It seemed he didn't belong here any more either...and he sensed the time was fast approaching where he would be forced to make a decision about his future. One way or the other.

Update note, 5/12/18: I'm flattered and pleased about the follows and those that expressed interest in seeing this story continue. The story was always intended as a one-shot glimpse into Tony's thoughts around this scene. I don't plan to continue it at this time, and I already have a 'Tony leaves' story in progress. I would never rule out adding to this though, if an idea I like comes to mind. I just thought I would let readers know where things stand currently. Thank you for reading :)