A/N: Hi All! This story is finally, totally, 100% COMPLETE! It's been a LONG time coming but an amazing project which has been wonderfully rewarding! Thank you so much to the insanely huge number of people who have taken the time to read this, I'm honestly blown away by you guys! Extra special thanks to those who have taken the time to review - virtual hugs and cookies for you all!
All my love, and wishing everyone a Merry Christmas! xx

Epilogue

Six weeks of mandatory work leave for his recovery had passed… not that Tony was counting.

It was Sunday evening and, with the Monday to come, his mandatory ban from NCIS would be lifted at long last.

Tonight was the 'Welcome Back Tony You Great Big Trouble-Magnet!' party, as it had been appropriately named curtesy of Abby.

The team had been visiting him in hospital as soon as Gibbs had given them the okay. It had been a few days of bad hospital food, lots of sisterly hugs and chatter from Abby, and a tender kiss to his forehead from Ziva, a rare show of the deep affection she held for her surogate family. McGee and Palmer had brought his favourite movies with a little portable player and Ducky's constant checking of his condition was thankfully enough to calm the worry Gibbs would never admit to.

Tony was setting the table and could hear commotion from every corner of the house. Gibbs was in the basement hunting for bourbon, Ducky leading a similar raid in the kitchen cupboards for tea, while Palmer dashed back out to the car to grab his wallet for the pizza, as it was his turn to buy. Abby was arranging her bat-shaped coconut-chocolate cookies onto matching black skull plates, while Ziva cooked the garlic bread and McGee fetched the drinks.

Usually, Tony would have begged and charmed his way back into the NCIS Navy Yard sooner than this; however, this time was different. It was like the straw that broke the camel's back, he supposed, and it had taken all five long weeks to be where he was now. And just where was he at this point?

Okay.

He was okay.

No he wasn't fantastic and bouncing off the walls yet, but he passed the psych eval. and he laughs and jokes with his team… no, his family, and he feels more than ready to be back at work! But he was still finding the last of his footing, even now. Mainly though, he's learnt to let himself take it slow. That recovery from something traumatic isn't a race.

Week one had been hell on earth…

He wakes up in a cold sweat, shaking with tears dampening his face. A quiet gasp leaves him in a rush when he sits up and tries to find his bearings.

It feels like he's back there… with her, blood on his face, a madman with a gun…

I feels like he never left.

And maybe he hadn't been as silent as he thought because next thing he knows Gibbs is there. He's mumbling a comforting mantra of, "You're with me. You're safe. This is real, Tony. Just breathe, nice and slow."

Feeling reality settle back into place, the pain kick in and before he can stop himself, Tony's sobbing, "I can't, I can't do this, I can't!" over and over again.

He feels himself be pulled towards a warm, steady chest and Gibbs' strong arms hold him though the flood of muffled tears.

And for the first time in a long time, Tony feels safe enough to let himself cry.

The next night it's the same but... worse...

There's a gun in his hand and Stratton's on the floor.

There's a desparation in the other man's eyes but Tony know's his are dark, focused and void.

*Bang*

And there's suddenly so much blood.

The smoking gun in his grasp.

Stratton yells a bloodcurdling cry of pain as the bullet tears through flesh.

*Bang*

More blood.

There's so much blood and Tony should care but he doesn't.

Not even a little.

Legs useless, Stratton screams.

Tony doesn't even flinch.

He feels only hate. A hatred so strong that it's like a fire in his veins.

He leans over the quivering man spread prone on the floor whose legs are soaked in blood.

"Please..." Comes the shaky whisper of the broken being at his feet.

He presses the cold metal of the gun to Stratton's forehead. Dead centre.

"Please!"

His eyes stay void.

He doesn't even blink.

*Bang*

"No!"

He wakes screaming bloody murder.

He yells for the humanity he fears he lost when he pulled the trigger.

Cries out as he finally realises that there's a darkness in his soul he simply can't reconsile.

Gibbs is at his side in an instant despite the ungodly hour.

"Hey, Tony. Just breath, nice and slow for me."

And he's once again in a strong embrace that means safety and love.

"You're okay. I've got you."

He's not sure he deserves it.

"How could I?" He whispers against the older man's chest.

"How could you what, Tony?" A gentle reply. No condemnation. No judgement.

"I shot him. I wanted to kill him." It's a chocked admition. He fears the reaction.

"But you didn't." No contempt. Just facts.

"I wanted to. I'm a monster, like him." Heavy with uncertainty and pain and self-disgust.

"The difference between man and monster is actions not thoughts. Any man would want to, but only a monster would take the kill shot." Steady words of reason. No empty promises.

"Tony... did you kill him?"

"I wanted..."

"Did. You. Kill. Him?" Slow. Determined. Single-minded in intent.

"No." The simple plain answer.

"Then you're not a monster."

The tears wouldn't stop and Tony no longer tried to make them. Feeling a relief deep in his bones. The feeling that he could come back from this dark place.

"You're human."

He was only human. He could make mistakes. He hadn't crossed a point of no return.

He felt the weight of the world ease off his shoulders, just a little.

Week two wasn't much better…

*Bang*

Tony freezes.

His blood runs could and suddenly he's shaking and there are people and noise and he was coping okay before but now there are too many people, too many threats, too much, too much, and where did the bang come from? Where's the gun? Where's the bullet? He can't find the threat and he's looking frantically but he can't find it, where is it? Can't figure out where…

Where?

Where?

Where!

Gibbs curses himself for insisting Tony leave the house with him on this stupid grocery run, even though he knows the younger man can't stay isolated from the harsh world forever.

In an instant, he's by Tony's side in the huge parking lot, shopping abandoned. He holds Tony's hands gently and reminds him where he is, to think about what he can feel… reminds him this is real.

"What…?" DiNozzo finally manages to gasp out in question minutes later, once the panic attack has started to ease.

In understanding, Gibbs answers, "Just a shopping cart, Tony. A kid pushed it and it banged into a car. There's no threat."

And Tony quietly felt like he was losing his mind.

Week three things started getting better…

*Bang*

Seconds after the sound, Gibbs was in the lounge room at Tony's side, kneeling in front of the seated younger man.

"Tony, hey, it was just a car backfiring, you're safe. You with me?"

And, surprisingly, he is.

He knows he's shaking and his breathing is suddenly a little quick. He can tell he's tense and feels sick to his stomach…

But he's in the present.

The memory is there, the hint of a flashback pushing at him…

But he's in control.

He's feeling panicked… but It's not a panic attack.

He knows where he is and looks to his mentor and says, "Yeah, yeah I'm with you, Boss."

And Gibbs smiles a half smile. Enough to show he's proud.

It's not much in the grand scheme of things…

But it's one hell of a step forward.

Week four was noticeably better still…

Tim and Abby insisted on a movie night on Gibbs' couch. Well, Abby insisted and Tim got easily roped into the whole affair.

They were watching a horror movie… an obscure Spanish one with subtitles and a plotline that was buckets of crazy. Abby, being the diligent friend that she was, had checked the warnings and read up on the movie reviews and found nothing that should cause stress for Tony right now.

But, no plan is really fool proof.

Fifty-three minutes in and the possessed teenagers finds a gun. He aims at his target in a millisecond and, faster than Abby's frantic dash for the remote…

He pulls the trigger.

*Bang*

Tim and Abby freeze.

Tony flinches.

He feels himself go a little pale and his heart beat a tad too fast…

But, for the most part, he's okay.

He smiles reassuringly at Abby and McGee.

And, oddly enough, the smile is true.

Week five he makes a choice…

Tony loves his career.

Of course, a big part of his job involves guns. So the last remnants of his aversion to them is something he needs to battle through… and now he's ready.

Trusting of his senior field agent's judgement, Gibbs takes Tony to the firing range on Monday.

He flinches.

Tuesday.

He flinches.

Wednesday.

He flinches.

Thursday.

… He doesn't.

Friday.

His hands still shake.

Saturday.

They shake.

Sunday.

... They don't.

It's the last day of week six…

And he's okay.

He passed his psych eval.

He passed his test at the gun range.

He passes his own expectations too.

At some point, the pizza has arrived and Jimmy's setting the last box down on the table just as Tony places down the final plate.

They all take a seat and the chatter starts up almost instantly as everyone, Tony included, digs into the pizza.

Ziva is arguing the point playfully with Tim and Palmer that Mario Kart is a childish pastime for them to still pursue… but agrees to play regardless. If she drives in the game like she does in the real world then she's sure to go flying straight off Rainbow Road on the first run.

Ducky and Abby are chatting about the merits of the young Goth getting yet another tattoo when she already has so many. He hears a petulant, "Duckman, it's an expression of yourself through ink! I need advice from those who know my soul best… so… Buddha… or a miniature of Bert the Hippo?"

Smiling, he looks away and, in doing so, catches Gibbs looking at him with a smirk on his face.

"What?" He asks curiously. "Pizza on my face?"

"No, but you keep looking around and smiling to yourself." Gibbs replied.

"Oh." Tony offered with a shrug. "Just thinking, I guess."

"Figured." Gibbs deadpanned, grabbing a second swipe of Pizza. "'bout what?"

"Just that," He paused, lowering his voice to a low gravely draw with the flavour of an Italian accent, "'A man who doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real man.'"

Gibbs simply levelled him with the best poker face in the world and, not thrown in the slightest, continued eating his pizza.

"Really, Boss, you wound me!" Tony exclaimed. "Mario Puzo… The Godfather…?"

At the continued blank look, he gave up on Gibbs as a lost cause with a melodramatic sigh. However, he failed to notice the amused smirk Gibbs was powerless to hide when faced with Tony's antics.

"McGoo!" Tony suddenly called across the table, causing all other conversation to pause.

"…yeah?" Was Tim's uncertain reply.

"Don't eat the last piece of sausage, peperoni and extra cheese!" Tony hollered.

"Why not?" McGee threw back.

"Because it's got my name on it, McSteal!" DiNozzo announced.

"No way, Tony! You're not getting the last slice." Tim stated with defiance, turning back to his conversation with Jimmy, hand poised protectively near the precious pizza slice he'd claimed.

As the conversations resumed, Tony readied himself to get up and walk to Tim, but Gibbs' voice gave him pause.

"You know, McGee's never going to let you take that last slice off him. Not with us all here. Matter of pride, DiNozzo." Gibbs stated.

Tony smiled deviously and simply said, "But I've got an ace up my sleeve, Boss."

"And what might that be, DiNozzo?"

For the first time in weeks, that trademark playboy grin lit up Tony's face and a mischievous glint reached his eyes.

He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a tube of super-glue.

"I'm gonna make him an offer he can't refuse."

~ FIN ~

A/N: And we're done! Reviews are love and your feedback is always most welcome! Thank you all again xx