Inspired by a meme on grieving grief I came across, and a line by Michael Weatherly in the most recent TV Guide interview with him and Mark Harmon. I don't know if I've ever written a G-rated piece, but the bunnies were fierce, and I lost. :) Hope you enjoy!

His World

There was a smell in the air unlike any other. It could only be likened to an east coast autumn. The breeze carried a crisp, tangy scent that reminded him of Pennsylvania autumns, but there was a slight salty smell to it that Gibbs knew distinctly as the winds coming off of the bay. He felt it on his back, and kept walking. It would rain, but not until late in the evening or even early morning, and he knew it as well as he knew that he'd hear leaves crunching under his feet with every step he took down this trail until he made it back to his car.

He used to make walks like this twenty-five years earlier, only he wasn't making them alone. His beautiful wife would be by his side, her hair blending with the leaves on the trees behind her, and he'd be mesmerized by her smile. Her strength and confidence faded away to a shier, gentler grace when it was just the two of them on those long intimate walks, holding hands and falling in love with each other all over again. He could almost hear her laughter when he thought about it hard enough, soft as tinkling bells.

He sighed heavily and stopped in the middle of the trail, looking around at the trees and wishing he could hear that sound. They had never walked through this park though, never held hands on this trail, and he wondered why he was there and not at one of the many other parks they had spent time in together. He knew the answer, but didn't want to admit to it.

He spotted a fallen tree and shuffled through the leaves slowly to go sit on it in peace. He ached in a bittersweet way, and he shook his head at his own sentimental stupidity.

It didn't hurt as much anymore, and he felt guilty for that. He didn't cringe every time he thought of his girls, and he didn't feel so empty any more. He was used to the grief, used to the hole in him, and now that he was actually filling it, actually feeling happy again, he felt like he was betraying Shannon and Kelly by not missing them so hard that he put his life on hold. He was moving forward, and he knew that if he admitted it to himself, he would see that he'd been moving forward for thirteen years.

He thought back to where he had been twenty-five years earlier, and how much it had hurt to have his first Halloween back in the States, and hear all of the kids that ran around the neighborhood, laughing and giggling, knowing that his little girl wasn't out there with them. He remembered turning every light in the house out and hiding in his basement for the first time, relieved to find that the memories weren't as strong there without their scent, their possessions, their essences haunting him like they did in the walls upstairs. He remembered how the next day, he had packed everything up with his horrible hangover, and crammed it all into the attic, where it still stood, untouched.

It was hurting to remember, but not as much as it used to, and the hurt he felt at that made up for the slightly less pain that he was feeling for his girls. His girls. He'd tried so hard to find a new Shannon, but it didn't take long for him to realize he could never replace his Kelly, and not much longer than that to realize there was no replacing his first love either. It was futile- they were simply irreplaceable. He knew that now, and he wasn't going to pretend that the thought hadn't come up in both his own mind and his lover's as they questioned what was happening between them over the past ten months.

Another sigh, and Gibbs thought for sure he could smell the very winds of change washing over him. They were cleansingly cold, and though they were refreshing, they were bitter against his tired and burning eyes. The breeze made the trees shake around him, and the leaves rattled in a way that made the world feel like it was coming alive around him, and he felt his own world coming alive within him.

Thirteen years. It had taken thirteen years of a slow, gradually changing relationship to earn the love and trust that Tony had earned. Somehow, Tony had planted a seed from the beginning that neither had been wise enough to understand, and he was grateful. It wasn't placed there intentionally, but it had taken root in them both, and bloomed brightly when neither had expected it, bringing color to their lives the winter before when the world seemed at its bleakest.

Over the years, he'd let Tony slowly take the tiniest bits of his pain from him, replacing them with smiles, laughter, trust and loyalty. He smiled to himself on the log, and felt a war raging inside of him against the urge to be happy. He was so used to grieving that sometimes he had a hard time letting himself celebrate the life he was building with Tony.

It felt nothing like it had with the ex-wives. Tony didn't try to replace Shannon, and he encouraged Jethro to still love her and Kelly. His occasional questions, that always managed to come up at just the right moments, would encourage him to talk about them and remember them. He would often look into Tony's eyes ten minutes after telling him a story about the girls, and wonder how he'd gotten him to open up, and he'd ask himself why it hadn't hurt, and whether or not that meant that he was giving up on Shannon.

He tried to tell himself every day that there was nothing he could have done to save her, and yet he still held on to the pain as though if he were to let it go, he would finally be letting her go, and if he let her go, he was a failure. He knew it made no sense. He knew that Shannon and Kelly had not only had been loved intensely, but were still being loved intensely, and he knew that Tony gave him the courage to remember them and love them, cherish them, and honor them better by sharing those memories than he had been while keeping their greatness to himself.

He shuddered as the wind suddenly stopped around him, and he felt the world go quiet. The winds were at the same kind of impasse that he was, wondering if they should blow again.

He thought of Tony. The warmth Tony had brought into his life over the years, treasuring every gesture of affection, no matter how simple, made him feel unworthy, humbled and loved. There was a time when they first started seeing each other outside of work where he wondered what would happen when Tony realized he wasn't perfect, and he started laughing loudly to himself at the oddest moment, that he'd inadvertently hurt Tony's feelings, and ended up having to explain himself.

It's just sometimes you say these things, and I feel like you're crazy for thinking so highly of me, and I wonder if you're ever gonna realize that I'm the furthest thing from perfect there could be. Then I think of how many times you've been slapped in the back of the head, running away to Mexico, coming back from Mexico, and all of the other hell I've ever caused you at work, and I realize that, yeah, you already know. I'm kinda thinking I've hit ya upside the head one too many times. It might be time for another CAT scan.

Gibbs reached up and rubbed the back of his own head with a sheepish smile as he watched the leaves falling from the trees around him as the wind decided to pick back up. He could almost feel the slap Tony had given him in response to that, but his words echoed even clearer.

Jethro, I love you because you're not perfect. I love you because we're two perfectly damaged and screwed up souls that were lucky enough to find each other, and recognize the good in one another when we couldn't even see it ourselves. Just let me love you the way I want to love you. I don't tell you how to love me.

"He doesn't tell me how to love him," he whispered to the wind, the trees, their fallen leaves and the spirits of his girls. "He doesn't demand more of me than I'm able to give. He brings you back to life, and he's bringing me back to life. You will always have my heart, but I can't deny that he's my world." He got to his feet with a sense of finality. "I'll always miss you," he said quietly. "I'll always love you, but I'll always love him, too, and I hope that's okay."

He walked back to his car, his steps a lot faster than the ones that carried him into the small patch of woods on the edge of the city. As he cleared the trees, he pulled out his phone and hit speed dial one.

"Hey, you."

"Hey," Gibbs said with a smile. Tony's voice opened floodgates of relief within him, and the fact that it was void of anger was nothing short of miraculous to him. "Are you at home?" he asked tentatively.

"Yep. Making pasta."

"Comfort food," Gibbs said with a guilty wince.

"Thought you could use it," Tony said quietly, and Gibbs could hear the small smile on the other end of the line. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Gibbs answered, getting into the car. "Just had to clear my head."

"Anything I can help with?" Tony asked.

"You answered the phone with something other than a threat to move out and call a lawyer, so you've already done more than I ever expected."

"I'm not going anywhere, Jethro. You'd have to kill me or cheat on me first, and I don't see either of those things happening. You're too loyal, and I'd definitely take you down before you'd have the chance to take me out."

"Oh, is that right?" Gibbs joked with a chuckle, sitting in the car, his eyes closed as he fought back the wave of emotions tugging at him.

"Yeah, it is. Come home to me, Jethro. I'll be waiting."

"I'll be right there," Gibbs answered, not hanging up the phone as he turned over the ignition and slipped his seatbelt on. "Hey, Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"Love you, too, Jethro."

After heaping servings of pasta and a couple of beers, Gibbs' head was in Tony's lap on the couch, the younger man's fingers running through his short hair.

"You going to tell me what's going on in there?" he asked quietly.

Gibbs smiled. "Just needed to remember where I stand on some things, and why."

"Those some things being us and our relationship?" Tony asked. He'd long since learned that he had to be direct if he wanted answers. Gibbs knew that it was a hard question to ask, and the fact that Tony had asked it more than a few times in the course of their relationship made him feel bad.

"Somewhat, but not really. It was more that I needed to remember to live the life I have now. They would have wanted me to, and I want to, but sometimes I feel guilty for being happy, and I just need to go give myself a reality check."

Tony nodded, looking down into the blue eyes looking up at him from his position on his thigh.

"You're my world Tony, and I don't ever want you to doubt that. That, you, us- we're never a question, there's never a doubt that we should be together. I'm finally happy again, I'm just not used to that, and sometimes I need to get out, be alone to… I don't know, grieve my grief? Does that make any sense?"

Tony smiled crookedly down at him. "Yeah, actually, it does."

Gibbs looked up at the shining green eyes above him and smiled. He knew if anyone would understand, Tony would.

"When you need time, Jethro, take it. Just give me a heads up if you can so I don't worry too much about you. Too much. Because, yeah, I'm gonna worry, there's no denying that's going to happen, but maybe it wouldn't happen so much if I knew that's what was going on in there. I totally get needing downtime to think."

Gibbs took Tony's hand that was resting on his chest and entwined their fingers. "How did this happen?" he asked, wondering how he'd gotten so lucky to have Tony in his life.

"Well, once upon a time, in a faraway land called Baltimore, a wayward cop named, well, let's just call him Tony, met this cocky fed named, well, let's just name him… Jethro, how about that, Jethro," Tony said, making Gibbs chuckle as he played absentmindedly with Tony's hand.

"And see, this Tony had a good friend that stabbed him in the back, and it sucked really bad, and really messed up the way he looked at the world. But the fed, this Jethro guy, well, he knew about it, and he felt bad for the cop, and he said, "Why don'tcha come live in my world with me?" And so Tony went to work for him, and he realized that Jethro's world had bad guys in it too, but he could still see the good in the world. Tony tried to see the world just like Jethro did. He tried to see the good hearts in people, and he tried to help those around him, and he tried to be one of the good guys, especially when he didn't' feel like it. Tony finally realized that Jethro was the good in his world, so one day, Tony came over into Jethro's dungeon and down his spiral staircase, and he cast a magic spell on Jethro so that he'd fall in love with him, and they lived happily ever after."

Gibbs shook his head, a sad smile on his face. "You forgot the part where you slayed the dragon," he added.

"Jethro, there was never any dragon to slay. Your past…" Tony said seriously, trying to find the words. "Your past is made up of beautiful memories that you're trying to cling to. There's nothing wrong with that. If your memories of your family are a dragon, it's a pet dragon, and I'm gonna feed it, and get it a dragon bed, and maybe some little dragon toys. Oh! And just think, there will always be a fire in the fireplace. You'll never have to light one again." Gibbs was chuckling even harder now, and he sat up, kissing Tony gently.

"Thanks, Tony."

"Hey, if you ever need alone time, you can just say you're taking the dragon for a walk," Tony said with a smirk.

"Only you, Tony. Only you," he said, shaking his head with a smile of wonder. He felt brighter and lighter than he had all day, and he was glad to be exactly where he was. This was the world he wanted to live in, and the man next to him was who he needed to live in it with.