A/N: So, here it is. The last chapter. *sigh* This is really sad for me. Surprise, though - there will be an epilogue to this story, so stay tuned. I also reread the story, and I realized that the first ten or so chapters are terrible, so I'll be rewriting those at some point. The rewrite isn't a priority for me, however. Anyway, this is the anniversary of this story - one year since the prologue was posted! Cheers! Tell me what you think, and please review! :D

XXX

Tony shoved against the door, but something was blocking the way. Desperately, he flew down all three flights of stairs and to the back, looking up to see the balcony doors to Tim's room just closing. There was a ladder leaned against the wall nearby that city workers had been using to fix a powerline; he decided to borrow it.

Ignoring the working men's protests, he scaled the ladder and jumped onto the balcony, trying the doors. Locked. Glancing around, he noticed a small potted cacti on the corner table. He hurled it at the doors.

The glass shattered inwards, and the weight of the pot tore the curtains down. He scanned the room quickly, until his gaze came to rest on the bed.

His heart, which had been thudding in his chest, came to a rapid halt. The white sheets were rapidly turning red below the limp, unmoving figure resting there. The face was turned away from the window, but the identity was obvious.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut, struggling to breathe. It wasn't supposed to end like this.

Somehow his legs managed to carry him over, and he sat on the bed, shaking hands going to his head. All he could think about was every mistake he'd made. Anything he could have said to show that he was there for Tim, some way to stop him from doing this to himself. Most prevalent was the question of whether he could have been faster, and, if he had been, would he have been able to prevent this.

After a few minutes, he reached unsteadily into his pocket and retrieved his phone, dialing Gibbs' number. As it rang, he noticed something in Tim's hand.

"Gibbs."

He slowly pulled at what he discovered to be a picture, pulling it gently from the cold hand of his silent companion. His breath caught as the realized it was from Tim and Abby's wedding.

"Hello?"

He swallowed. "Boss."

"DiNozzo? Where are you?"

"…I found him, Boss."

XXX

The warm night air was illuminated by flashing blue and red lights resting atop police cars and a solitary ambulance stationed outside the hotel, their accompanying sirens long silent. Tony sat in the back of the ambulance, legs hanging off the end and lightly touching the cooling pavement. He didn't notice that Ziva sat quietly beside him until she spoke.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"What do you want me to say?" He didn't mean to sound as sharp as he did.

She sighed. "What you are feeling. And don't deny it, because I know you must feel something about it."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to feel."

"It isn't required that you react a certain way, Tony. You have a right to be sad, angry, confused, or anything else you need to be."

"…I guess I just need to sort all this out."

"That is reasonable." She patted his knee. "If you need to speak to someone, you know you can tell me."

She stood and began to walk away. He hesitated before calling to her.

"Hey, Ziva."

She turned slowly, and he saw that her strong façade had slipped for just a moment. Tears glistened in her eyes.

She spoke quietly. "Yes?"

"…How are we going to come back from this?"

There was a long silence. Finally, she replied.

"…I don't know, Tony. I don't know that we will."

XXX

A/N: Review, please!