Gibbs had gotten off the elevator twenty minutes ago. And then come back to go see Abby. A good fifteen other people had also passed through, staring at him as he mumbled to himself in the corner. Ziva even came through on her way home, but she wasn't the one that he wanted to see.

"Hello, Tony," she said, barely registering his attention. She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Earth to Tony."

He looked at her. "What?"

"Where have you been?" she asked. "Were you not with Gibbs before?"

"I've been in here."

Her eyebrows shot up. "In the elevator? Why?"

He gave her an indignant look. "What, I'm not allowed to hang out in elevators anymore? What happened to freedom? I demand a retrial!"

Ziva appeared dumbfounded. He was obviously rambling. It wasn't his fault of course; that's what happens when he's nervous.

"I—what do you—I am confused." She finally said.

They had arrived at her destination. He waved his hand and pushed her out of the doors. "Goodnight." He yelled as they closed again.

How hard could it really be? All he had to say to McGee was 'I was bullied too.' If anything else, it would probably make them closer than ever. Maybe McGee wouldn't associate Tony with the people who bullied him, like Tony was pretty sure he did. But that was to make him a better agent. To make him stand up for himself and prove to not only himself, but everyone else that he made the right choice to join law enforcement.

McGee was a good agent, one of the best. Tony liked to think that it was because of him. And he seemed quite upset by what those kids had said. He said it was like being back in high school.

The elevator, which had been stationary for a while, had begun to move again. Tony had a feeling about who had called it.

He trudged up to the correct floor. God, I don't remember it this thing being so slow before, Tony thought to himself.

The doors opened to McGee. He looked surprised. "Tony, where have you been? I haven't seen you for hours. Thought you'd gone home."

Tony merely shook his head.

Tim looked at him questioningly as he reached to select the main floor, but he found his hand blocked as Tony flipped the emergency off switch.

McGee gave him a suspicious look. "Need to talk about something, Tony?" he said, turning to face him.

He stayed silent, avoiding eye contact. Gathering his thoughts was never his strong suit.

"Tony?" McGee probed.

Damn him.

"Hello? Tony? You're really freaking me out here."

"Will you just let me think for a minute!" Tony exploded. And he immediately regretted it at seeing the look on Tim's face. On any other day, he probably would have yelled back and stormed out of the elevator. However, today, just a few words stole away his confidence. Instead he visibly deflated and turned away.

After all he accomplished, Tim didn't deserve to feel that way. "Probie, I—." might as well just say it. "I never strung Stinky John up by his underwear."

"I find that extremely hard to believe, Tony," he said, without turning around.

"He did it to me."

That got his attention. He turned back around and looked at him skeptically. "Now I find that even harder to believe. Why would you say that you did it?"

"I don't know." Tony said, throwing his hands up in the air. "I—maybe it was my mind trying to protect itself or something. That happens right?"

McGee just stared.

"Right?"

He finally spoke. "Um, yeah. Yeah it does."

He released a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Well, that's a relief. I really thought I was going crazy, you know." Tony managed to crack a smile, breaking the tension that was nearly becoming suffocating.

McGee laughed out loud and Tony joined in. "How could you possibly forget something like that?" he said.

"I have no freaking clue!" Tony said trying to staunch his laughter with his hand. "You keep telling me that I've lost my mind. You're probably right."

McGee was trying not to laugh. He was gazing up at the ceiling and rubbing his mouth, as if attempting to wipe off the smile. As much as he wanted to hold onto the moment…

"I guess I just didn't want to look like a loser." He said quietly, then sighed and slid down the wall. "I just wanted to fit in."

McGee joined him on the floor, prepared to listen.

"I remember it all now. John was—well he wasn't always the nicest guy. Not to me anyway." Tony readjusted his shoulders and laid his head back against the metal. "I mean… youknow?"

McGee nodded.

"There was more than the one incident, but that was definitely the worst. You're right; it really isn't what I would prefer to be talking about. Ever."

"You don't have to explain, Tony. Is it really so bad that we're more alike than we, or pretty much everybody else, originally thought?"

"I suppose not." Tony shrugged and then chuckled. "You know I tried to give him an apology card. He looked at me like I was insane and then asked me why I was sorry. He was really nice about it all. And then he apologized. Just like I should now." He turned to his partner.

"Don't even think about it, Tony," McGee said firmly, looking him squarely in the eyes. "If you think for even a minute that you're anything like that, then you've got another thing coming. You're nothing like them." He obviously wasn't just talking about Stinky John anymore. "There isn't anything to apologize for."

Tony was amazed, yet again, at how selfless the man was capable of being. They shared a smile.

"Besides, if you were my Probie, I'd have done the same thing to you." McGee clapped him on the shoulder. "Now what do you say we get the hell out of here. I could go for a drink."

"Or we could sit in here for a little while longer. Enjoy each other's company."

"You just don't want to get up, do you?"

"Well I did just have a concussion."

"If by just, you mean last week."

"I'm tired."

"More like old."

"Whatever you say, McJerkface."

"Oh! Name calling is it?"