Hey guys. So this is it, my beta just sent me the corrected version of HTF's final piece, and here it is.

But first, let me say something. To every person that took the time to read the 26 chapters of this story, thank you. To those who chose to review and tell me what they thought (good or bad), know that if I could complete this story, it was almost entirely thanks to you. I've been through some hard times that kept me away from writing and you made me want to come back, again and again.
Which, of course, makes this really hard to do.

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"Wake up, stronzo," someone said in Italian. His brain was slowly firing up when he started to remember what had happened. His eyes finally shot open, just in time to see a large bucket of water heading his way. He swore when the icy shower hit his face, and again when he finally realized he was tied to a chair. His captors had taken his shirt, shoes and socks off and Tony could see the bad torture movie scenes reenactment coming as clearly as he could see… Lorenzo Anconetti. Sitting just before him, a bitter, cold smirk twitching the right side of his lips.

"What a surprise," Tony said in the most unnaturally neutral tone possible. His face a mask that showed neither discomfort (the back of his head was throbbing) nor the fake detachment that he usually used in such situations.

"If you're wondering why your head hurts, it is because of something called pistol whipping," Say-your-prayers sneered, obviously delighted that he could get his little revenge on what Tony had done to him not so long ago.

"You little piece of shit," he went on, his Italian accent heavier than usual, "you thought you could walk back in our business and family and take them down as if you owned us?"

Tony shook his head slowly, minding the injury he could feel had re-opened at the back of his skull and the headache that had naturally worsened.

"I didn't think that. I actually did it."

He wasn't gloating, wasn't taunting, wasn't smirking, his face was a blank wall.

"I knew you were a traitor. I knew we couldn't trust you!" Anconetti resumed, accepting the long kitchen knife one of his men had just brought. There were three men in the room with them. It looked like they were in a cellar. One of the soldiers was by the door, guarding it, another was just behind Tony and the last one was by Lorenzo's side, apparently in charge of bringing him all the good toys.

"And yet, everyone did," Tony said.

"Not everyone," Lorenzo growled, still calm enough to stay put and just stare at Tony with disgust. "Do you have any idea what you did to this family? Do you know who you messed with? Who you tried to destroy?"

"Yes. Amateurs. Because, really, who the fuck trusts a federal agent that has already screwed you over once? You and your family let yourselves be guided by arrogance."

"I never-"

"You never bought my act? So why didn't you do anything? You thought you could see it coming if I planned anything against you. You thought I was under control, because you had me followed by your men and you thought I didn't even know. Arrogant, condescending, fool. You are more responsible for the Achenzas' failure than anyone else. "

Anconetti didn't say anything for the longest time, and then shook his head. Tony had worked with the man enough (when he first infiltrated the Famiglia) to know Lorenzo had a lot of patience when he was the one in charge. When he had his target tied to a chair (a wall, a tree, a bed, a car…), he liked to take things slow. As long as he was in a position of power, he was nearly impossible to rattle.

"You think I'm stupid? You think I didn't see you and Francesca? Or how you were with my wife and my kids?" Lorenzo paused and looked down at his hands, holding the knife and playing with it expertly. "It wasn't just a mission to you. You cared for this family, didn't you?" he snorted and shook his head again. "How do you think your feds friends would like that?"

"What, are you threatening to tell on me?" DiNozzo let himself show irony for the first time.

Lorenzo smirked and looked back up. "You know I have big plans for you today. I've been waiting to have you strapped like that for a long time."

"Then who cares what they think. You want to kill me."

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Tony was trying really hard not to think of Abby, but it was the only thing on his mind. He almost didn't care that he was indeed about to be tortured and probably killed by a man that hated his guts. A man that had lost his son, his wife, and now his whole Famiglia and was probably blaming it all on Tony.

He couldn't say her name though. If they still had her, they'd bring her and torture her in front of him sooner or later. He'd rather it was later. Gibbs was coming. Yes. He knew Gibbs, Tim and Ziva were coming.

Lorenzo got up and walked to him almost lazily, the knife catching the light and sending a reflection in his eyes for a brief second. Tony almost chuckled. He'd had so many nightmares about this when he was still working close to Lorenzo! What had happened, in almost ten years, to make him so unafraid now that it was finally happening? He used to wake up in the middle of the night, his sheets clinging to his sweaty skin, his heart running, his stomach clenched in panic.

And now there was nothing but Abby's name in his head. Abby's face. Abby's panicked moan just before he'd been pistol-whipped into unconsciousness. He refused to think about what they could have done to her in his apartment, but he still had hope they'd just left her there. Why go through all the trouble of carrying her (she would have fought them like a lioness) and driving her wherever the hell they were. Right?

Right?

The first punch he received to the face called him back to reality.

"You shouldn't have come back. You should have stayed dead," Lorenzo said in Italian as he clenched and unclenched the fist he had just used.

"What do you think would have happened if I hadn't come back?"

"Half of the famiglia wouldn't be in jail!" Anconetti said as he hit again, exactly in the same spot.

That man could pack a punch. Tony couldn't see or think straight for several seconds. His head was now killing him and he was almost sure his nose was bleeding profusely.

"No, but half of it would have left anyway, wouldn't it?" he finally said when he managed to find his balance back.

"Yeah? And why's that?"

"Think about it, Lorenzo. You've been around a long time, you know how it works. Carmine is sick; you've known that for a long time, haven't you? You knew he would've needed to be replaced. Just think about the consequences of Emilio becoming Father."

Tony wasn't surprised to see Lorenzo actually take a moment to think about it.

"Emilio doesn't have what it takes. He would have been worse than Don Mattera. Boneless, easy to manipulate, he'd have been eaten alive. And you know what's worse than being stopped by a fed, don't you?"

Lorenzo squatted just in front of him and took a hold of Tony's jaw. DiNozzo didn't flinch, staring right into the eyes of Say-your-prayers. He went on, undisturbed, confident in the truth of his words.

"The Achenza name would have lost its power. The Matteras, the Orlanduccis, even the damn Greeks would have taken over."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe Emilio wasn't cut out for the job. But we will never find out, will we? We could have found another way. Another Don. You arrogant stronzo," Lorenzo grabbed Tony by the hair and pulled it back. "This famiglia is older than you and has always managed to survive and be respected. Did you think you were irreplaceable?"

"No, I wasn't, but Carmine Achenza was. And open your eyes, Lorenzo. Now the Matteras are gone. Turner will talk and take down lots of people with him just to make a deal. The first ones on his list will probably be in the ranks of Orlanducci, because he was his biggest associate."

Tony tried to ignore the cold feel of a razor like knife against his throat. Lorenzo wouldn't slice it open. It would be too quick. He thought of McGee's earlier question, when he had asked what would probably happen now, and Tony had said he didn't know. He had lied. He could guess a lot from experience and history alone, and every thought of his had been dictated by this, so he didn't stop.

"And this is good. You know it is, because Orlanducci would have been dangerous, gaining that much power with two of the biggest families gone. Pironi is the weakest under pressure, but he's a good man. He'll take care of the people left with no protection. And the families that were dependent on Achenza? They will have everything they need now that they have that legit company to shelter them. Milo Reilly is a good guy too, and a businessman. He knows what to do with what he has."

Lorenzo pulled harder on his hair and Tony winced, the back of his head had hit the back of the chair right on his injury and for a moment there were little stars dancing behind his closed lids.

"So you did us a favor, didn't you?" Say-your-prayers asked, his tone low and his irony dangerous.

"Carmine Achenza won't go anywhere. He'll never see jail," Tony resumed again, though he was now unable to open his eyes because of the throbbing, piercing pain in his head. And his voice was definitely weaker than he'd have liked.

"He'll be nearby, still influential enough to keep everyone calm and prevent a retribution and territory war."

"Listen to yourself. Sounds like you thought of everything, huh? Almost like you did it for us and not because you're a fucking Fed!" Anconetti got up suddenly and sent the chair flying backwards in the same dash.

Tony had to bite his lips to keep from actually yelling when he felt the wood of the chair digging right into the spot where he'd been shot a few weeks back.

"And always so calm and logical, aren't you? So confident, you ungrateful bastard, never even doubting yourself, huh?"

Lorenzo was interrupted by the sound of a cell phone, behind the closed door. A man knocked and entered the cellar, glancing at Tony as if everything was totally normal and extending the phone to Anconetti.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" Lorenzo asked the man in Italian.

"But boss, it's your wife," the guy answered the same way.

Lorenzo obviously didn't expect that, and Tony snorted (painfully).

"Tell Cici I say hi," he managed to say from the ground.

Lorenzo's face became a violent shade of purple in a second, and, as he took the phone forcefully and hid the mic with his hand, he motioned to Tony with his head and ordered the four men in the room: "Bring his friend around."

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No. Tony had to fight the panic out of his features. He couldn't let Lorenzo know how much he was scared for Abby. Of course they had her. Of course she wasn't safe at his apartment. He had to think. Damn it, he had to find a way out of this. His head was killing him, and for a reason he couldn't understand the memory of Carmine bending to kiss his temple as he called him Don Achenza for the last time kept coming back to him. Damn it all. He couldn't afford being that seriously concussed. He couldn't.

Anconetti had smirked mirthlessly and gotten out of the room to talk on the phone. Mere minutes after that, two of the men that had accompanied their boss out came back, dragging a fighting woman with them. They had put a bag on Abby's head, and Tony couldn't keep the flashes of Ziva in such similar posture in Somalia from popping in his tired and hurting mind. He tried to shake his head and open his eyes widely, but it only made him more nauseous.

That's when he heard her cry.

The sound was muffled because of the bag on her head and the ringing in his ears, but he couldn't miss it. His Abby was sobbing even though her legs kicked and her tied hands tried to scratch and grab whatever was around. A lioness, Tony confirmed just as his attention focused again. His heart was beating faster but the pain that had been radiating from his upper body seemed to recede.

They had made a serious mistake.

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His head was slowly clearing, although for some reason the face of Francesca, as she told him she hid a gun in her car, was hovering in his mind. The fear, just like a wave that had come crashing into him, was now receding too, and something bigger and stronger replaced it.

He grinded his teeth and forced the pain away. He thought of Cesca, of what he had felt when she told him she would soon become consigliere, and the anger grew insistent. He thought of Alceo and it grew steadier. He thought of Julian, smiling enthusiastically and running to him when they met again, and he started wishing Anconetti was back already. He remembered the blood surrounding Enzo's bullet-pierced body, and he was ready.

When Lorenzo entered the room and his eyes fell on Abby's now lying body with a satisfied smirk, Tony felt adrenalin shoot through his body.

The man that had been standing guard behind him when he woke up was near the door too now, and Tony had to twist his neck to follow Lorenzo's movements as the he drew closer to Abby. From where he was lying on the now broken chair, hands still tied on his back, he watched as Lorenzo bent and grabbed her by the chain around her hands. His best friend was apparently aware that this was serious, because she had grown suddenly silent, and she crawled with difficulty so that her head wouldn't hit the floor as she was being dragged.

"You shouldn't have come back," Lorenzo said, looking directly into Tony's eyes. The smile had disappeared, his face almost solemn as he snatched the bag out of Abby's head in a swift motion and threw it on Tony's chest. Abby's eyes automatically found him after she blinked confusedly several times, and she gasped but didn't address him.

He wasn't looking at her, his eyes were locked on the man with the knife in a hand and his best friend in the other.

"Do you know why I did?" Tony said in the same voice. There was no fear, no begging in his tone. It rung low but clear, like an omen in the stale room. He felt blood on his forehead, nose and mouth, but his eyes were wide open and looking straight at Lorenzo. "Do you know why I came back?"

Lorenzo probably had an answer, but even he felt the tension in the air. There were no masks anymore, no games to play. Tony glanced at the last remnants of the chair underneath him, the wood had given up easily when he had been thrown to the ground, and the last two legs hanging were easily broken with a kick on its legs. Straightening up, Tony was now sitting on the wooden debris. He took the time to look at Abby, who was still on her knees by Lorenzo's side. She was looking at him with wide, shocked eyes that he couldn't understand, but she didn't seem hurt.

"You shouldn't have brought her," Tony said, still taking his time. He wringed his body a bit, feeling the ties restraining him, and sighed. Slowly, knowing Lorenzo wouldn't stop him, he slid his hands under his legs, as if he was used to doing such contortions, and brought them in front of him. Anconetti didn't seem to care, but one of his men drew closer, now standing just by Tony's legs.

There were only two henchmen with Lorenzo now, but Tony wasn't happy about it. He could hear dogs barking outside, and he knew exactly what was getting ready for when Anconetti was done with him. It was just how they treated traitors. They chained them by the legs to the back of a car and drove in large circles for a while, dragging their half naked victims on the burning asphalt at high speed before they finally unleashed famished dogs trained to kill.

But that wouldn't happen to him.

"You can shut the dogs up, Lorenzo, they won't be running around today."

"Acting like you're in control doesn't mean you are, stronzo. Now if you want to say goodbye to your friend, or maybe apologize to her, it's time."

Abby didn't react to the threat, or at least she didn't make a sound. Tony wasn't looking at her but he was more aware than he even thought possible.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about how the Feds work. Like how everything you own is bugged and even Ciara's calls are wiretapped."

Lorenzo snorted confidently, but the man just in front of Tony started fidgeting, looking back at his boss and partner with a frown on his face.

"We know enough about the FBI—"

"And there are a lot of things you don't know about how my team works," Tony interrupted, stretching his neck and arms carefully. "Like how I have those two colleagues crushing on each other and how they call each other every night. Or how poor Timmy is so tense lately that he'll probably freak when Abbs doesn't answer."

"We already know you team is aware you're missing," Say-your-prayers informed calmly, unfazed by DiNozzo's words. Tony knew Lorenzo must have taken special precautions to be so confident.

"Or how," the NCIS agent went on as if uninterrupted, "Abby is under the protection of my team, and how my team," –he insisted on the words- "takes it really seriously."

"As usual, you talk a lot, DiNozzo, but what are you going to do?" Lorenzo asked, his voice low, his words creeping into his target's skin to leave an icy trace on its way to his chest. Tony's face grew cold, his lips twitched in a second's sneer, and his voice, when it came, was so matter-of-factly commanding that his words, like a presage, couldn't be doubted.

"I'll eat the heart out of you."

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And in a second, everything was moving. Tony locked his hold on the piece of wood he had been feeling under his hands for a few seconds, and suddenly he was stabbing Lorenzo's thigh with it. The man yelled out in surprise and bent in two, and before either guard could take their guns, Tony had jumped up and passed his tied arms around Lorenzo throat. Bringing his hands together, the chain tightened on the man's throat and he fell on his knees, Tony bending forward to follow the fall. Abby, who had gasped and moved back not to be hit in the flurry of movements, jumped on the knife that Lorenzo had let go of and then back again to stay behind her best friend and his new hostage.

"Let's back away, Abbs," Tony said in a detached but controlled voice. He moved backwards, dragging Lorenzo's weight with him as the older man struggled to move in sync so he wouldn't choke. They only stopped when they found a wall to protect their backs.

"Now now, what should we do?" He asked again, tightening his grasp on Lorenzo but looking straight at the closer henchman. Everything had happened so quick that by the time they were ready to shoot, their boss's body was protecting the target. Now both soldiers were looking between Tony and Lorenzo, guns aimed in their general direction.

"Drop—drop'em," Lorenzo managed to gasp, and his men obeyed. The door was suddenly slammed open and the two other guys who had been there arrived, yielding their guns as if it was a bad cop movie. They stopped short when they took in the scene.

"Drop the guns," Tony said calmly. "You didn't let me finish, Lorenzo," he added after the two new comers had obeyed his orders.

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Abby watched in morbid fascination, holding onto the knife she had found and praying she wouldn't need to remember Ziva's training. Tony had that voice again. The one she had only ever heard him use since Achenza came back into his life. It was calm and strong, which was often how her Tony acted when in terrible situations. But that wasn't all. It came with a stance, a look. It was the authority that exuded from him.

She had almost forgotten to be scared, when that man took the bag off her head and she finally saw her best friend, a thick layer of blood covering half his face. She saw his eyes and there was something in there that could almost not be Tony's. For a second, she was sure she had seen white wild anger cross his features, but then he was so controlled she doubted it was possible. And then he talked, and even though he wasn't saying that at all, Abby couldn't but think Oh my God, Tony's gonna kill them.

Where was Tim? Where was Gibbs? She knew they could trace her there. Tony was right, they were so protective of her they had made sure she could never be taken off the grid unwillingly. Her belt might not have a knife hidden in it, but the tracker she had placed there herself was just as useful in such situations. Tony knew it, and he had almost told their captors himself: they should not have taken her.

"You don't know how I work, Say-your-prayers," Tony whispered at the man's ear, squatting so he could keep his hold on Lorenzo easily without killing him involuntarily. "You asked the wrong questions, earlier. You should have asked why I came back."

He then motioned to the four men watching carefully from where they were spread in the room, and then to a corner. They all walked there, the farthest possible from Tony and her.

"Abbs, get us some guns," he said after he was satisfied with the distance between the men and the closest guns, still on the floor.

Abby ignored the fear that made her heart beat faster and ran to the guns, bringing two with her. Tony placed a foot on Lorenzo's wounded thigh to make sure he wouldn't move, and when the man gasped and bent over in pain, the Agent retracted his arms swiftly, taking a gun and walking a few steps away from Anconetti so he could face him, his gun now pointed at him.

Lorenzo's hands went to his neck, now an angry red, and he gulped the air as if he thought he could never do so again. Abby couldn't help but step back as he finally looked up at Tony and her, and his expression was pure rage. Tony's arm was steady and he didn't seem to care.

"Why did you come back?" Lorenzo wheezed. He didn't sound curious. He sounded like he was concluding something that Abby didn't understand.

"You told me that you saw I cared?" Tony asked, his voice sinister. "You don't even begin to understand. You could have started a full-out war between families, you could have raised an empire or burnt the Famiglia to the ground, and I wouldn't have batted an eye."

Something made Abby want to look at him in the eyes as he talked, and so she moved by his side, not realizing her mouth was ajar and forgetting she now held a gun and a knife in her chained hands. She could almost see the air shifting around him. She felt something hot and furious, and he could have burst into flames there and then, she would have barely been surprised. She stared, and listened, and she knew that was it. The answer.

"But putting Francesca on the line as a consigliere?" he paused again, just a second, as if to reflect on the idea. And then his voice rose, strong and haunted. "Risking Alceo to soldier for an incompetent leader? Abandoning Julian, Enzo and the others under no protection?" Tony paused and shook his head softly.

Abby held her breath when a small smile crept up his face and his lips twitched in the exact same way she had seen Carmine Achenza's do in interrogation.

"I protect my people, Lorenzo. You could burn my soul, and I would still raise and protect them."

Then he walked forth, and Anconetti stumbled back involuntarily.

"You shouldn't have brought her here," Tony repeated, and raising his armed hand, he struck the man's face with enough strength to send him back, unconscious.

The guards made a go for their guns, but Tony –and Abby, though uncertain of what exactly she was doing- aimed at them.

"Stop it right there. And don't be impatient, our friends won't be long," he ordered.

Tony squatted and patted Lorenzo's limp body, finding a knife he took and threw away, and a phone he passed to Abby silently. She quickly called, warmth spreading a bit into her chest when she heard Gibbs's voice pick up.

"We're okay," she said first. "Are you coming?"

"5 out," Gibbs said, and somehow she knew he was relieved out of his mind.

"Tony protected me," she added, to make sure he understood they hadn't touched her, and hoping her best friend would hear her and relax some more.

"He'd better," bossman said, and she smiled into the phone.

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When she hung up, Abby started to work on her chain. With a knife and no one threatening her, she managed to free one hand, than the other, before she took the gun again and offered to help Tony do the same. He shook his head but didn't acknowledge more of her. He hadn't moved, his eyes locked on the four men cowering in a corner, but she felt a new tension rolling from him now. A tension that hadn't been there earlier, when he seemed in control of the universe.

His jaw hard and his frown deeply anchored in his face, she wanted to touch him, to reassure him, she wanted to clean his face because now she realized he looked so un-Tony like it was scary. But she didn't dare do any of those things. So she slid between him and the wall, where she knew he'd think her safe, and sat. Hurry Gibbs. Hurry.

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Tony realized back up had arrived only when he nearly shot Gibbs in the head. He was so tense that he hadn't heard the sirens and the sounds from outside. His head was killing him and there was an annoying buzzing sound somewhere near his left ear that he knew only came from the punches. Adrenalin had washed out a long time ago, and he knew perfectly well he was running on fumes. His muscles were trembling, though he tried to hide it, and the only thing he was forcing himself on being aware of were the people inside that room. He knew he should have gotten out and surveyed the perimeter. Tied the perps. Made sure they didn't have anything dangerous on them. But he couldn't. He was weak and his body wouldn't work anymore, so he made sure he didn't move.

Then the door opened, Tony's arm pivoted on instinct and he nearly pulled the trigger.

"DiNozzo! For God's sake," Gibbs added quietly as he found the bloodied face of his agent.

His arm shook even more for the few seconds he wondered if he was hallucinating, but then he finally lowered it and allowed everything he'd kept at bay to finally crash into him. He stumbled back, and flinched when someone touched his shoulder to help him. Abby. Abby was here and safe. He closed his eyes and Carmine nodded his approval. Tony wondered why his brain had decided to hurt him.

"It's okay Tony. You did it. We're safe," Abby suddenly said. She had a strange look on her face, and she stared at him as if willing him to really understand something. He tried to focus, pushing away Carmine, the pain, and the anger that still shook his body. "We are all safe. You did it."

Who did she mean? Did she think of Cesca? Did she consider the families that depended on Carmine and him? Did she talk of the team? Did she have any idea who he had to protect?

"I need to sit," he heard himself say in reply.

He hadn't even noticed the EMTs already crowding the place.

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When he woke up at the hospital, he had to focus extra hard to barely open his eyes instead of immediately going back to sleep. He felt like he had slept two weeks, and he didn't like it. It was dark but for a small lamp by his bed.

"You really up this time?" a grumpy voice asked, not without warmth.

"Why is my face burning?" he answered, still fighting against the pull of sleep.

"It's been used as a punching ball."

"Oh yeah, tha' right."

Gibbs snorted and Tony smiled (or at least he thought he did, but it may have looked like a grimace).

"We have to talk," the boss said quietly.

Tony made an effort to turn his head to where the team leader was and made a face.

"Not fair boss, you know I can't hold my tongue when I'm on meds!"

"Can you ever?"

"Ha-ha, I knew you were a funny man, behind that whole—"

"Shut up, DiNozzo."

Tony smiled, relaxing in his bed though he hadn't realized he was tense.

"Thanks, boss."

There was a long pause then, but it was comfortable, natural, and Tony was nodding off when Gibbs's voice brought him back.

"I'm damn glad you're not dead, DiNozzo. I'd have had to kill you myself."

It was said all quietly, but it echoed in Tony as loud and clear as if he'd been yelling it.

"You wouldn't kill me, boss. You'd probably kill for me though," he mumbled, realizing everything was a bit jumbled up together in his drugged mind and he was probably not even expressing himself with words. The effort was tiring, but he didn't want to lose grasp on reality just then. He liked that conversation. "I'm almost sure you'd hide a body for me too."

"I'd kick your ass first."

"You didn't say no! Awww, boss, this is so sweet!"

He couldn't see it, but Tony was pretty sure his boss had rolled his eyes. He was almost shocked out of the beginning of a drug-induced dream by a low chuckle. He forced his eyes open just to make sure he wasn't hallucinating, but he found Gibbs, his boss and friend, a coffee in hand and laughing.

"You're out of it. Go back to sleep."

"t'okay boss. You don't need to say it," he mumbled, feeling the smile on his own face and not caring about how his bones hurt. "I know now."

"You know?"

"I know," Tony nodded his head, but then regretted it immediately.

"Better late than never then."

Tony wanted to laugh too now. He wanted to tell his boss that he'd known for a long time. Of course he had. How could you not see how much Gibbs cared for him? He was part of the team, after all. But now he knew it was even more than that. Of course Gibbs didn't consider him his son or anything, but who cared? Tony didn't need a father. He was glad to have a loyal and strong friend in Gibbs though. A partner he knew saw him as an equal, respected and trusted him no matter what. He knew now. He could probably never doubt it again.

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Tony was smiling when Tim helped him out of the car and into Gibbs's house. It felt right to be there. He knew he was still too sore and weak to stay at his own place alone, so he had asked McGee to drive him the only other place in the world that made sense. It felt normal. The smell of the house, as weird as it sounded, always helped him relax.

Gibbs's house was the place where he got better. Every time he had to make a trip to the hospital, he ended up here until he got better. Even when he didn't really need it, he knew it kept Gibbs from worrying, and it was enough of a reason for him.

So he was smiling when he arrived and found his stuff already there. The guest room wasn't really the guest room anymore. It was Tony's. And when a real guest stopped by, Gibbs always gave them his own room (it wasn't like he used it much anyway).

Jackson was in the kitchen making himself something to eat when the two agents arrived.

"The doc said you wouldn't be allowed out before a day or two," he greeted.

Tim rolled his eyes and shot a dark look at Tony.

"He clearly didn't know how stubborn Tony was," Tim grumbled unhappily.

"Oh come on, Probie, what would 24 hours change? I've been feeling fine for days."

"Yeah, that's why you can come and go by yourself, right?"

"That's low, McWorry-wart. Now help me to the room, Gibbs swore that if he found me out of my bed when he arrived, he'd make me wear my ass as a hat."

Jack turned back to his cooking, chuckling as he heard Tony go on in the stairs ("Now I don't know how that could be physically possible, but you know I have a high sense of fashion and I do not think that ass-hats are a la mode this season.").

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Much later, after the two Gibbses had come by to bid him goodnight and had left him alone, Tony lay there, staring at the ceiling. He had made a deal with himself, two days earlier: he wouldn't think about the Achenza case or anything related to it as long as he'd stay at his boss's place. Truth was, he wasn't sure how much more he could take.

The first day he'd woken up at the hospital after the Lorenzo debacle, he had realized how washed-up he felt. Not just physically, but mentally too. He sincerely didn't think he could deal with much more Achenza business without something breaking in his mind.

But his brain didn't seem to agree with that deal, because it had kept sending him flashes of Carmine Achenza. Memories of their discussions. They replayed behind his closed lids and he felt like he was watching a black and white movie, alone in a grand theatre that made him feel small and deserted. He saw Carmine give him his trust. He saw the respect in his eyes. He saw the older man lean down to kiss his temple, and it was like an out of body experience that wouldn't stop before he felt something burning in his chest.

And then Alceo called him.

Alceo's call had been perfectly timed with the arrival of Leroy Jethro Gibbs in his hospital room, that very first morning. A phone had rung that wasn't his professional one, and Abby, who had been there for a full hour, had had to look in his leather bag to find the ringing phone among his clothes and hair gel bottles. She'd given the phone to him with a solemn face and then gone to Gibbs, who was staring burning holes at his bed-ridden agent.

"You did something," Alceo said in Italian as soon as he'd answered. He resented needing to talk to him, as much was clear in his tone.

Tony sighed and passed a hand on his forehead. So much for wanting to take a break. He snorted to himself. This wasn't a case. This hadn't been just another job. This was hard, concrete, real life. You didn't take breaks from that one.

"You shouldn't be heard talking to me," Tony answered in Italian. It made Gibbs tense, Tony felt without even looking at his boss.

Almost involuntarily, Tony's head swam with different scenarios trying to weight the consequences of Alceo's call if the feds knew of it. He didn't want to think about it, but he had gotten used to try and foresee the chain reactions of every possible decision he took, lately. It was how he survived so well in undercover ops. But now it hurt his brain, and he wished he could just stop thinking for a few days.

"You did something. The feds don't have everything on me. That's why you wanted the list of what I did and the people who knew about it, isn't it?"

"I thought you'd call sooner," Tony admitted, thoughtful for a second, before giving Alceo what he wanted. He would dwell on the loss of his brother another time. "If they show you evidence, admit to what they have. If they don't, shut your mouth."

He could hardly be clearer without giving out names and dates. He had included a few of Alceo's associates to the visits he had made before the big showdown. Thanks to Elena's information, the people he had seen would never dare talk for fear of seeing their secrets outed. The FBI still had a lot on Alceo, but they didn't have "the really bad stuff," as he used to call it. Or at least they didn't have evidence.

Alceo had done bad things. Things that should not be forgivable. And yet Tony couldn't send him to rot in jail for the rest of his life. He had never hurt anyone innocent, DiNozzo kept reminding himself. But that excuse was not good enough, Tony knew, and his protecting Alceo made him something he didn't want to name. He didn't want to think about it. He'd probably have to write Vance a resignation if he did. And he couldn't do that.

Tony had realized he was too weak to give up his team voluntarily. He would hold on until he was physically forced to let go. His conscience would shut up eventually. Right?

"Don't expect a thank you note, you still betrayed us," Alceo ended up saying after a long pause.

Tony closed his eyes. Alceo would probably be out in a few years if he was lucky enough, but it was still years Tony had taken him away from his wife and infant kid.

"I won't."

.

And though Tony was sure it had been the last straw, nothing in him broke as expected. Maybe it had been broken for a long time, or maybe he had underestimated himself.

Now sleep, he ordered himself. Sleep.

Knock – Knock – Knock

He almost jumped in surprise, his hand crashed into the table next to his bed to get his gun. He had forgotten he was not at his place.

"It's not there," Gibbs said when he opened the door. "I took your gun earlier,' he reminded.

Tony couldn't think of anything to say, his heart was out of control, beating so fast and hard it seemed to echo in his ears. Why was he so jumpy? For God's sake, attackers would not knock. And then he realized what Gibbs was doing.

"Is that my DVD player?"

"Yeah, I figured what to bring but I have no idea how to make it work, so that's on you."

"You… want to watch a movie? Right now?"

"D'you have anything else to do? Were you sleeping like you should?"

"Not exactly, no."

"Have a better idea of how to make your brain shut up?" Gibbs asked matter-of-factly after he put the machine on Tony's lap.

The younger agent looked at it and shook his head slowly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"You're always the best at shutting me up, boss."

"Damn right I am. Now make this thing work."

.

Gibbs let his agent handle the DVD player as he dragged the only cushioned chair there was in the room closer to the bed. Tony put the player between the two of them and leant back on the wall. Already, a movie was starting on the small screen.

"Figure you'd choose a Steve McQueen movie, boss," Tony grumbled contentedly. Gibbs didn't say he had grabbed the first one he'd seen amongst all the stuff McGee had brought earlier.

They were halfway through the Thomas Crown Affair when Gibbs noticed Tony's eyes were more often closed than watching the movie. He made a movement to put away the DVD player but his agent stopped his hands. The boss looked up only to find Tony's eyes looking straight into his.

"Thank you, boss. You know, for dealing with my crap."

Tony knew Gibbs could just nod, tell him to sleep, and leave, and that it would be okay. But for once, he really hoped for words. He didn't know why, exactly. Maybe he was just so tired that he wanted things to be said loud and clear so he wouldn't have to make any efforts. Maybe he wanted to be totally honest himself because he knew his boss deserved it, and he needed help getting the words out. As usual, Gibbs knew what his agent needed better than he did.

"You dealt with mine plenty of times, DiNozzo. Not doing anything you wouldn't do for me."

"Damn right," Tony said with a smile. Now that he thought about it, he was probably still pretty drugged up. Gibbs raised an eyebrow, and Tony knew he was thinking the same thing. "Don't worry, I'm conscious enough to know what I'm saying, and to remember it in the morning."

"Unlike when you called my father after your surgery," Gibbs said as he went back to sit on the chair. Tony extended his hands and closed the DVD player without looking at it.

"He told you about that, huh?"

Gibbs stayed silent for a few seconds before he seemed to make a decision and locked his eyes with Tony's.

"I heard pretty much everything you told him on that roof."

Tony didn't even need a moment to take that admission in. "Of course you did," he snorted instead, shaking his head.

"You said some pretty heavy stuff, Tony," Gibbs went on, his voice low and soft as it always was when he was talking about serious and delicate matters.

"I'm a pretty deep man, Gibbs. Okay, okay, don't roll your eyes, I can sincerely say I don't remember much of it anyway."

"You talked about moving on."

"Well, look at me boss, obviously I've not gone anywhere."

Gibbs rolled his eyes again and Tony chuckled.

"You know I know about the job offers, DiNozzo!"

"Yeah, and thank you for babbling to Abby!"

Gibbs didn't apologize and Tony sighed, leaning his head against the cold wall and looking out the window.

"Do you know about the latest one?"

"Senior Field Agent in –"

"No," Tony interrupted. "I'm not even sure Vance is still offering, what with the mess I'm in right now."

"What's the job?" Gibbs interrupted, straight to the point.

Tony turned to look at him as he answered. "Team leader of a Major Crime Response Team."

Gibbs's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"I know, right?" Tony laughed at his boss's silent reaction.

"Where?"

The SFA's smile disappeared in a second as he stared hard at his boss.

"Quantico."

"NCIS Headquarter, Quantico?"

Tony nodded, not even close to smiling now. Quantico was the center of operations for the entire spectrum of the NCIS mission. It oversaw all of the field offices and their subordinate components. This was one of the best (if not the best) positions Tony could hope to have in NCIS while still working in the field as a special agent. And seeing Gibbs's reaction, his boss was not aware of this job offer. After a while in complete silence, Tony's eyes automatically went back to the window. What kind of reaction had he expected, really? He hadn't known what to say himself, when Vance had thrown the file his way.

He had barely turned his head when a hand on his jaw made him look back again. Gibbs was leaning forward; his closeness seemed to make his message penetrate even more clearly than it would have otherwise:

"You deserve it."

Tony just stared.

.

"Damn, you deserved it years ago. After that mission in Somalia? I thought the CIA and FBI would fight over who'd hire you first, I don't understand how it didn't happen."

Tony smirked and Gibbs squinted his eyes.

"They did try!" the older man realized. "DiNozzo, were you ever gonna tell me?"

"Tell you what, that the CIA tried to recruit me? It was a terrible attempt, and I have bad history with a few CIA agents. Anyway, that's a whole other story."

"All the books that McGee could write with those stories of yours," Gibbs snorted, and Tony chuckled.

"But seriously, you know that's the best offer there is, don't you? And once it's filled, it's gone for years."

"You think I should take it?" DiNozzo asked, all humor gone.

"You have to think about your career. Don't you want to lead? When was the last time you learnt anything here?"

Never, in his wildest dream, could Tony have predicted such a conversation. Gibbs was not a big talker. He could say a lot, but usually through a meaningful gesture or look, not through words. Yet, Tony couldn't say he was surprised. He'd always known his boss was there for him if he ever needed to talk things through. Maybe Gibbs realized his agent needed to hear those things at least once, coming from him, so he could really make a decision.

"I know I should climb the ladder, boss, but you know me, I don't really care about the titles. Sure, I want to lead someday, and I'm pretty sure I can too, but … I don't know, boss. Not sure I want to lead a team if it's not the one I have now, you know? Not sure I could think straight, knowing Probie, Ziva and you are working cases without me, somewhere. I guess I'm just weak like that," he concluded, shrugging.

Gibbs made the movement to head slap his agent only to stop himself when he remembered the head injury Tony was still recovering from. His SFA looked at his half raised hand and smirked, tilting his head in curiosity.

"DiNozzo. You are a lot of things. But weak is not one of them. Now let me tell you, if you're waiting around for the day you can take my place –" Gibbs started menacingly.

Tony saw where his boss was going with that and interrupted him, a twinkle in his eyes.

"What? Your place! I wouldn't dare! But you do make a valid point. You're not growing any younger boss, and you're going to need someone strong enough to push your wheelchair around when you need to chase perps in a few years."

"Do you want to end up on the mat before you've even recovered, DiNozzo? " Gibbs threatened, hiding a small smile Tony could read in his eyes anyway.

Taking a look at his watch, Gibbs frowned and got up.

"Sleep now, or Duck will have both our asses tomorrow."

"Wait, boss. Were you ever offered Quantico?" Tony asked when Gibbs was already opening the door to leave.

It was a legitimate question, really. Gibbs had been NCIS's best agent for so long, he'd have had to piss someone pretty important never to be offered a position at headquarters.

"I was, yeah."

"Why didn't you take it?"

Gibbs stood there, looking at his agent for a few seconds before answering.

"I already had the team I wanted."

Tony's half smile told him he understood.

"I'm glad you didn't leave."

"The feeling's mutual."

And he closed the door.

.

Sleep came more easily than it had for several days. And he almost didn't feel the hollowness of a bed without her. Almost.

.

.

"Boss, I have to go back to work."

Gibbs just stared, and Jack took his reading glasses off as he folded the newspaper to follow the discussion. They were having breakfast, Jack was a morning guy and Tony had spent the night waking up at odd hours, so they were both up when Gibbs got ready to leave for work.

"Don't look at me like that, Gibbs. You know I'm gonna drive both your dad and myself crazy if I don't have something to occupy myself."

"You can barely walk, DiNozzo," Jethro said, and his father nodded heartily.

"So I'll sit."

They stared at each other for a few more seconds, and Tony knew his boss couldn't ignore what was going on in his head. Asking him to stay home all day was tantamount to asking him to dwell on the whole Achenza case for hours. He was already edgy, he didn't want to know what a day of self-doubting every decision he made, wondering what IA had on him, imagining Carmine in a cell, and thinking of Cesca alone in Europe, would do to his nerves.

"A day or two, and you may come back on desk duty. Look at you, DiNozzo, you'd fall on your ass trying to get to the car. I can't let you come back."

Tony's jaw clenched as he kept his eyes locked on his boss's. Don't make me beg.

"My word's final, Tony," Gibbs said, more softly than even he expected. "The doc said you should lay on your back and try to rest as much as possible."

He left before Tony could protest.

"Don't worry, son, I'll find us something to occupy ourselves."

Tony closed his eyes for a few seconds, passed a hand through his hair, and suddenly got up.

"It's okay, Jack," he said with a warm smile and a light expression. The older man frowned at the abrupt change in the agent, but nodded anyway. This was Tony, after all.

.

Tony hated to admit it, but Gibbs had been right not to let him go back so soon. At 1300 hours, he was already in bed, absolutely exhausted even though he had spent the morning watching TV and playing cards.

As usual, his sleep was fitful and did not bring any rest. He rarely ever remembered his dreams, but as he woke up for the third time since he had lain down, his mind immediately jumped to a very recent memory of holding Elena against him. When he'd been sleeping on his couch to leave his bedroom to Jack and she had joined him, he had almost crushed her to his body. Had he dreamt of her? He felt uneasy and restless.

Even then, he had known it was a desperate, pathetic attempt at making her warmth, her sent, her everything sink into his skin forever… and now he felt cold. His arms contracted even though there was nothing to hold, and he ended up hitting the mattress in frustration. At this pace, he would go mad before his wounds could even heal.

It had been easier the first time. Leaving her. They hadn't touched the way they'd learnt to the second time. Now, they had achieved a new level of intimacy, one that he hadn't known he could ever experience. He hit the mattress again.

She would laugh at him for thinking such things. And he'd kiss her to stop her teasing.

It would be so much easier to just get over it and forget all about her. But a part of him hoped to God this feeling would stay with him forever.

Yes, he was definitely going mad.

.

.

Gibbs rolled his eyes as his two currently active field agents kept bickering about one subject or another in the car. He had stopped paying attention after a while, going back to thinking that they should let DiNozzo rest instead of going home with him to see their partner. McGee had been the one to cross his arms and declare he'd just keep knocking on the door until someone opened if Gibbs locked them out as he threatened. The nerve he had! And Leroy knew Tim wasn't bluffing. He still hadn't forgotten that night the "probie" had followed him home under Tony's orders to make him lock the door.

Damn it, his glare was losing authority.

If he had to be truthful, Gibbs would admit it had nothing to do with the glare. He could have threatened to shoot his own agent, McGee wouldn't have left his front step, that night. This was the new DiNozzo effect.

The team leader sighed as he got out if his car and heard the two agent slam the doors and follow him to his house. Damn DiNozzo and what he makes them do! Abby was already there, babbling away with Jack in the living room. No traces of Tony.

"He's sleeping in his room," Jack said his way before welcoming the team.

His room. Damn right it was his. Gibbs had felt the cold moment of doubt he'd already experienced the night before when he had entered his house and not found DiNozzo right away. After all, the last time he'd been released from the hospital, Tony had chosen to forgo this place and drive to Achenza. And you ate your pizza alone on his kitchen table, Gibbs reminded himself.

But now Achenza was history. And DiNozzo was here.

Hah.

Even as he thought it, Gibbs knew it wasn't that simple and he shook his head as he left his agents behind and climbed his stairs to check on his SFA.

"Damn it," he heard Tony's muffled voice through the door just before he knocked once and opened right away.

"Thought you were sleeping."

"Well, just one more thing I tried and failed," the younger man said snarkily as he shifted and made to get up from bed.

Damn it. He'd hoped Tony wouldn't fall into his own head. Sometimes the kid overthought so much even Gibbs's brain hurt. And it was never a good thing. The exhaustion he could read on Tony's every expression and the self-deprecation never bode well either.

"Before you go down, you should know the team's here."

"What? All of them?"

"I'm sure Ducky and Palmer are not far behind."

"You say that as if you expected me to run away," he snorted.

"I wouldn't judge you for that. I think they're being extra-loud to compensate for your absence."

That had Tony chuckling.

"What is it, boss, having trouble holding the troupes?"

Gibbs smirked and held the "If you only knew" he wanted to answer. This Achenza case gone FUBAR had made very clear how the team had evolved. If Gibbs was to go back to Mexico now, Tony would not receive the same treatment as last time from his partners.

The team was already his, in a way. Leroy had known DiNozzo would make a fine team leader for a long time, but he hadn't realized it fully before Tim disobeyed a direct order from him just to follow Tony's instead. Before Abby kept sending him the advancements of the cases they were working on even though he wasn't there. Ziva already opened up to him more than to anyone anymore, and he had been the only one able to reassure her after she'd found someone at her place. Yeah, they were already kind of Tony's team, they just didn't know it yet.

But hey, that didn't mean Gibbs was out of the picture. They still turned to him for solutions and support. It was just that DiNozzo was not far behind. And hell, Jethro was okay with it. He was damn proud of it, even.

"Come on, move it DiNozzo," the boss ordered, not letting his agent see what he was thinking.

.

They were on the last step when they heard Ducky berating Palmer just outside the door. Tony looked at him and smirked at the comic routine the M.E and his assistant had developed, and they paused to wait for them to enter. But they didn't.

"Oh my, what do we have here?" Gibbs heard Ducky say just as he opened his own door to see what was stopping the two new-comers.

There was a package on the floor.

"Don't touch it!" Leroy shouted just in time for Palmer to take back his hand. In a second, his SFA was at his six, looking over his shoulder to see what the hell was happening.

"Do you think it might be—" Ducky started asking knowingly.

"No, it's safe," DiNozzo interrupted.

What now, Gibbs thought just as Tony bent down to grab the package itself. He flinched on his way down and made a face on his way back up, but he seemed fine enough to make everyone else wait on the doorstep as he just stared thoughtfully at the small parcel wrapped in brown paper with a green ribbon.

"At least I think it is," Tony grumbled when he was already bringing it inside. Genius, Gibbs thought. DiNozzo made a bee line to the kitchen, his eyes never leaving the parcel, and his boss, Ducky and Palmer just followed him.

"Is that the Duck-man?" they heard Abby exclaim from the other room.

But Tony was already unfastening the knotted ribbon, so nobody thought to answer her. It was a book. Just a book. Gibbs squinted his eyes until he could read the title, "Odyssey," and take a look at the cover, the painting of an impressive, muscular Greek with eyes looking up but his shield held down.

"Ah, Odysseus. What an interesting character, don't you think, Mr. Palmer?" Ducky noted quietly.

"Trojan horse, yes?" came a voice from behind. Gibbs had noticed the others joining them in the now too-crowded kitchen, but Tony's head snapped to Ziva's as if just waking up from a trance.

"Precisely. He was the man that thought of a way to get through the enemy's supposedly impenetrable defenses," Ducky nodded, his shrewd eyes traveling the space to fall on Tony's expression and stay there.

Smart Ducky.

"Destroyed them from inside."

Gibbs didn't miss how Tony's shoulders suddenly tensed at McGee's words. "Probie" had added his contribution in a light tone as he got around the kitchen table to see what was happening. He frowned when he finally saw the book.

"But that was in the Iliad. This book is about the journey home." He said, looking around, wondering what exactly was happening.

Ducky's weighing eyes were still gauging the SFA's reaction, but the others were more or less just awkwardly wondering what exactly was happening that seemed so serious. Ziva only shrugged and added, softly, understanding something important was happening even though she didn't know what.

"He was the cold-blooded, cunning one, yes? The one that survived."

"You are both very right," Ducky agreed.

"Well, I don't know about cold-blooded. We studied that book in college, and he did kill dozens of men just because they were courting his wife," Palmer contradicted, pushing back his glasses on his nose. "Seems kind of excessive to me, don't you think, doctor? I mean, I would probably kick them out, but I wouldn't-" Jimmy started in a laughing tone.

"They'd tried to destroy his life," Tony intervened, his face snapping Palmer's way. He was frowning and something in his eyes seemed way too far away to his boss's liking.

Gibbs almost grabbed his shoulder, feeling the need to anchor his agent here and now in some way. But then Tony shrugged and passed a hand through his hair, a smile now playing on his cleared face. It didn't quite reach his eyes, but Gibbs knew that Tony had taken a hold of himself.

"They'd tried to take his family from him. So he stopped them."

.

.

.

Tony mentally shook himself and tried to calm down the defensive beast that had roared in his chest a second earlier. It was over now. He stopped them. He snorted and actually shook his head. That woman always found a way to make his feelings act up.

"Who's hungry?" he asked at large when he was finally himself again. "I vote we call pizza."

Tony was pretty sure Gibbs had glared at everyone to make them move, because the kitchen cleared out as Jack seconded his idea and Ziva complained she hadn't eaten anything remotely healthy in days.

"Open it," Abby's voice said. She hadn't moved, still looking at the book as if it could suddenly take life and attack. She was nibbling at her bottom lip, and Tony wondered why she was so nervous. Then he remembered. He'd been the one to give her the tapes, after all. He shouldn't be surprised that she knew all about Elena and his numerous conversations about Achilleus and the other Greek heroes.

He didn't feel like letting her down in any way, so he just obeyed. Only Abby and Gibbs were still there, although Tim was coming back to ask for a pizza menu. He skipped through the pages and only noticed the hidden piece of paper when it fell off. It presented a more applied version of Elena's usual handwriting, but he was sure it was still hers.

"Penelope waited twenty years for Odysseus. I am not that patient."

He chocked out a surprised laugh at the note and for no reason that he could consciously comprehend, a weigh was lifted off his chest. Tony felt his boss move from where he'd been a step behind him (having his back, as always). She'd always been such a drama queen.

"Abby," Gibbs called, not-so-subtly asking her to follow him and leave him alone.

The Goth seemed relieved too (what had she expected? He still had to have a real conversation with her), so she just nodded, bounced to give her best friend a peck on the cheek and left.

.

Tony smiled and leant against the table, putting the book away behind him and closing his eyes for a second. His back was starting to bother him again, but he didn't want to take his meds just now. He wanted to be fully awake and conscious to feel whatever it was he was feeling right there and then. With a note from not-quite Penelope and his best friends who came just for him in the other room.

"Do you love her? Elena Filangieri. "

Tim didn't even really startle his senior partner. DiNozzo just massaged his neck; eyes still closed, and back to his friend.

"Would I've left her if I did? Or let her go?" Tony asked as he took a deep, cleansing breath the way Abby had tried to teach him.

Opening his eyes, he pushed himself away from his support and walked around the table to join Probie. The younger man was looking at him really seriously, and it almost deserved an "aaaaw" when he shrugged and said:

"You can love her but love… justice more?" Tim attempted.

Tony smiled and looked back at his perplexed yet candid-looking friend, reaching out to him for support (the itch on his back was starting to really hurt).

"That's not the way I love," he answered simply. And before his conscience could revolt, "Gimme a hand, Proba-curious, Gibbs'll never let me come back to work if I fall on my ass now."

"Are you letting her go because you love her or something?" McGee asked as they walked to join the others.

"What's with the questions, Probie? Are you trying to write another book based on us?" Tony asked in a fake threatening voice.

"I never wrote anything based on you guys—"

"Oh come on! That lie again?" Ziva laughed when they arrived.

McGee helped Tony down and shot him a pissed look when the debate about his books' characters started for the hundredth time, only this time with Jack asking to be enlightened. Tony just laughed, even more so when he felt Gibbs's hand softly touch the back of his head, where he would have slapped him if he wasn't wounded. It stayed there, and he didn't complain. It felt good to be home.

.

.

Because Ducky strongly advised against his return to work so soon, Tony had to wait until the next week to be allowed back on desk duty. He had kept the complaining to a minimum, mostly because he knew his boss resented it as much as he did, and because Jack was being awesome with him at home and it would have been unfair to whine in front of him.

Monday came, and as DiNozzo climbed down the stairs, he found the older Gibbs with his own bags, ready to go back to Stillwater. As they hugged (in a very manly way, naturally), Tony couldn't help but ask again if Jack was sure he didn't want to move to Washington to be closer to his son (and to him), but the man just chuckled and shook his head.

Tony then got out and waited in the car to give the two Gibbses some privacy for their own goodbyes, cringing a bit when he realized he had kind of been in their way for almost a week now, and they hadn't really had any time to themselves. And then they were back to work.

.

"Good to see you again," Jeff, the security agent, said through the open window as he raised the barrier to let the car pass.

"Good to be back," he replied truthfully from across Gibbs, who was driving. Tony didn't remark on the small smile that seemed to tug at his boss's lips when he heard that. He just chuckled to himself and leant back.

They took the elevator from the parking lot, and he couldn't help but smile again like a fool when the characteristic ding rung and the doors opened to an ecstatic Abby waiting with a black balloon hovering around her head.

"Welcome back, Tony!"

DiNozzo smiled and accepted her hug carefully, taking a look at Ziva and Tim, who were already at their desks and looking at him obviously amused.

"Palmer brought cake, we can have it for lunch!"

"Abbs, it's not his birthday," Gibbs snorted as he kissed her cheek and made his way to his desk.

"I don't care, we both agreed Tony's return was to be celebrated, just like the end of all dark eras should be."

Dark era, huh. Tony's minute flinch at the words passed unnoticed, and he nodded when Gibbs ordered "Back to work, everyone!". He knew he had something else to do first, though. Cynthia had called him before the week-end to make sure he wouldn't forget. So when Abby let go of him and he thanked her for her kind attention, he walked to Ziva.

"Hold on to that for me, would you?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes but accepted the balloon's string from him. He then turned his heels and walked straight to the director's office. He could feel his boss's eyes on him as he climbed the few steps, and it felt right.

.

"Hey Tony," Cynthia, the secretary, greeted him when he arrived. "Go straight ahead, he's waiting for you." He nodded and obeyed, knocking once and opening the door without waiting for permission.

"Special Agent DiNozzo. Good to see you on your feet again. You're feeling good enough to be back?"

"Desk duty for a moment, but I'll be back in the field in no time." If I'm not fired, he added to himself.

"That's good. I don't like seeing my field agents incapacitated in any way."

"Too much paperwork?" Tony asked cheekily, and the toothpick stilled as Leon raised and eyebrow.

"Well, if I wasn't sure before, now I know you're really okay."

"You know I'd hate for you to worry, Director," DiNozzo said, amused, and Vance snorted.

"So, let's cut to the point. What are we gonna do with you, DiNozzo?"

"Gibbs made a point to not let me know what was happening with IA, so I have no clue," Tony answered truthfully.

Vance eyed a file on his desk for a second, and Tony couldn't help but be curious about it.

"IA doesn't exactly keep me in the loop either. But Agent Fornell and the director of the FBI himself were both very adamant you deserved some kind of commendation for your work on the Achenza case."

Tony 's eyebrows were high on his forehead now, but Vance just smirked and went on.

"Whatever IA does, you should know that the direction of NCIS is very impressed and proud to have you in our Agency, Special Agent DiNozzo."

Well, that must have been hard to get out.

"Now, now, DiNozzo, what's happening, you have nothing to say to that? Are you sure you are perfectly recovered?" Leon asked snidely.

"I am just wondering how all these beautiful sentiments will turn around if IA finds me guilty of anything."

"As you know, the IA divisions of agencies such as ours are independent from our direction, and both the FBI and SecNav agree that until proven guilty, you should have all the support of the Agency. NCIS believes in its agents, Special Agent DiNozzo, whatever you may have chosen to believe these past few years."

Okay, now Tony was really surprised. He had known for a while now that maybe Vance held some kind of grudging respect toward him, since he kept offering positions. So their relation had evolved from "You're a screw up and I can't wait to see you fail", to "I don't like your attitude, but you're not too bad, so let's try to be civil." Plus, Vance was not the hypocrite type, so he didn't take offense at Tony's lack of butt-kissing.

"Does that mean you're still offering me that position in Quantico?"

"If you had any idea of the magnitude of your actions in the fight against organized crime, you wouldn't even ask."

"Believe me, I have a fairly good idea of the consequences of my actions," DiNozzo tried to keep the dark edge out of his voice.

"That trial is going to mark history. Hopefully, a lot of big names and big families are going to bring each other down in front of the law. Who knows, maybe some day someone will make a movie about it and you'll have one of your beloved actors play your role."

"Well, too late for James Dean, so I guess they will have trouble finding anyone as charismatic and handsome as yours truly," Tony answered without missing a beat as he tried not to think about the hell that was going to be that giant, multi-case trial.

"The position, DiNozzo. What's your answer about the position?"

"You know my answer, Leon," he shrugged softly, with a small, unamused smile.

"Tony you are wasting yourself. You could lead, maybe even move things at headquarter, give them a headache for once."

"Sometimes you have to serve in order to lead."

The director just sighed and pressed two fingers against his temple, as if he was actually starting to feel that headache.

"What's that, another movie quote?"

Tony chuckled and nodded, still comfortably leaning on the opposite chair and unapologetic.

"Troy."

"Of course," Leon rolled his eyes, "I hope you're not making a huge mistake. Some day or another, you'll have to step away from Gibbs's shadow."

"I'm not in his shadow, Director. I'm by his side, just like Special Agents McGee and David."

"Okay then. At least with you here, it'll be easier to deal with IA and the trial coming our way."

.

He was barely back in the bullpen when his desk phone rung. He picked it up just as he sat, and frowned when he was asked in a bark-like tone who he was.

"Excuse-me?" he asked politely.

"I'm supposed to talk to agent Gibbs, are you him?"

"No, this is Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, I'm—"

"Well, what are you waiting for, patch me through."

Tony just shrugged and did.

"It's for you boss," he warned when Gibbs's desk phone started to ring. He only noticed how the whole team was staring at him when he hung up and Probie cleared his throat. Gibbs was on the phone now, but he was still looking at him too.

"Anthony DiNozzo? I thought you hated to be called like that."

"Oh I said Anthony? I don't know I didn't really do it on purpose. Looks like I got over my problems with my name. I guess I'll start working on my Oedipus complex next," he joked.

Both ZIva and Probie still seemed a bit unconvinced, but they had apparently bigger questions to ask, seeing as how they glanced and nodded at each other before looking back a him.

"And what did Vance tell you?" Ziva asked. Well, at least they were working as a team.

"I just had to see Vance to clear out the whole mess of my—abrupt departure."

"But are you leaving?" she insisted, putting it plainly.

"Leaving? Where? I think it's pretty clear that I'm not welcomed in Baltimore anymore, don't you?"

"Tony, we know about all those offers you've had (and thank you for sharing by the way). You've been offered Spain, and Cuba and …" Tim started.

"And you really love the beach!" Ziva completed.

Gibbs, who had hung up quickly after a few words with his caller, pretended to completely ignore the whole conversation, still reading whatever file he had in hands, though with a small, almost imperceptible, smile. He was enjoying Tony's return a bit too much for his SFA's taste.

"Well obviously I couldn't go! the sun, the women, the new probie. How could I have focused on the work at hand and - ".

"You could just say it, you know," Tim interrupted with a relieved expression. Ziva was smiling too now; she let herself lean against the back of her chair.

"Say what?"

"That there's nowhere else you'd rather be," Ziva said contentedly.

Tony threw his head back and laughed.

.
.

He knew things would never go back to the way they were. A few years back, the team would have closed the Achenza case and never mentioned it again. There would have been too many things left unsaid, and it would have eaten at each of them, in a way or another. The only thing that they'd have gained would have been a weakened trust in one another (and especially in Tony), and nothing more.

But now things were different. The team chose to face everything together, even if it meant asking straight questions and taking the risk to see the answer change everything. Yes, that was it. They weren't afraid of change anymore. And it was a good thing. Their world wouldn't stop because Tony quit being such a clown from times to times, and they wouldn't stop respecting him if he made a mistake. As his laugh became chuckle and his chuckle, a smile, Tony felt as if they were really looking at him and seeing him. It felt damn good.

He still had a lot of reasons to worry, but at this moment, they didn't seem that important. And he had a feeling that his team would keep it that way. The IA investigation on him was still open, but now that he knew he had two federal agencies on his six (probably for fear of seeing their big fat trial go to waste) and his team's support, he knew it would not be too bad.

Achenza wouldn't testify against him, and would be released to home detention. Carmine had probably already called all his men off Tony. Tony had actually decided he would go visit him before the trial (he was held in a health care facility since the interrogation incident), and he would tell him the truth, because Carmine deserved it. Then he'd make sure they never met again. That was the only thing he had planned for the near future. He didn't have the strength (or will) necessary to keep thinking 10 steps ahead anymore. One day at a time, and he'd be fine.

"Grab your gear, we have a case!" Gibbs voice suddenly rung out, bringing him back to the present. The boss hung up the phone and everyone got up except Tony, who just made a face.

"But about Baltimore though," McGee resumed as he picked up his SIG sauer from his desk drawer and strapped it on. "Won't you miss being Antonio the Great?" he asked, half teasingly and half genuinely curious.

"It's better to be good," Gibbs said as he walked by Tony's desk to call the elevator. He looked at him knowingly for just a second, but Tony felt a deep warmth echo back in his chest.

"Yeah, harder, too," DiNozzo added with a detached smile as he forced himself to look away from his boss and at McGee.

"But it's worth it."

And Gibbs's words sounded like a promise.

.

.

Fin –

So?

AN:

Bear with me now.

• I actually have a question ( other than the usual "what did you think about it?" ). This chapter is almost twice as long as the usual ones. Do you think I should cut it and post it as two chapters, to make it easier to read?

• This is the final chapter of Honor Thy Father. Of course, because this is supposed to be kinda real-life like, all loose ends aren't magically tied in one day. I'll never write an actual sequel, but I may write short one-shots. I want to tell you about what happens to Julian, about Carmine/Tony during the trial, I want to tell you about that talk McGee decided he needed to have with Tony when he came back, and the punch in the face it included. Those would be short companion stories that I may never write but that are in my head and that you may like. So. Just thought you should know.

• Naturally, my last words in this story go to Debbie. Thank you for working with me on this project as my beta, thank you for your insight and thank you for giving me so much of your time.

It's been great writing for you. Goodbye, guys.