AN: This is my first NCIS story. I own nothing except a heart that loves it. I try desperately to keep characters in character but still put them in familial scenarios and situations to explore that relationship in my stories, so I hope you enjoy it and the other one-shots that will follow. Thanks for giving it a chance!

Based during season eleven after Once a Crook, mainly because I wanted to work with an emotionally worn out DiNozzo, but you could read with your own interpretation of why Tony may be feeling a little down.

Rule Number Eleven

The end of the barrel was cool against his burning flesh, so maybe that's why he leaned into the gun at his temple, but the weight he felt on his shoulders, in his chest somewhere near his slow-beating heart gave him doubt. The relief that coursed through him curved one corner of his mouth slightly upward as he let his eyes lazily fall to half mast. Even a sharp, "DiNozzo!," from Gibbs standing a few feet away, gun aimed at Tony's capturer, prepared to end a life to save another, couldn't make him jump, couldn't make him wear the mask any longer.

However, he managed to settle his bleary vision on the older man. Even through the haze, Tony could make out the lines of disappointment, anger, and something else the Senior Agent was too tired, too dreary, to even register before swallowing thickly and saying, "Rule number eighteen. It's better to seek forgiveness than ask permission, but I gotta break it just this once Boss, because I gotta ask you if I can just let him shoot me now?"

"Yes, Gibbs. Please, let him break rule number eighteen." The gunman encouraged, tightening his grip around Tony's neck, but only getting a reaction from Gibbs' twitchy trigger finger. He didn't pull, but damn did he want to.

"The hell you can, DiNozzo."

"Two weeks is a long time, Gibbs. Very long time to be in this guy's hands. You said...you said you'd find me. Why," Tony screwed his eyes shut, trying to get his thoughts to quit swimming. "Why didn't you find me?"

"I'm right here, Tony," and even in his drugged and tortured mind, the younger man could pick up on the fact that Gibbs said it as if Tony could simply just open his eyes and it would be true.

"Sure. Sure. Like you were last time...no, no, no. Not this time, Boss." Tony chuckled, keeping his eyes closed, and if Gibbs' stomach twisted he let it show in his hands holding his weapon rather than his face.

"What the hell have you done to him?"

"Oh, our dear Anthony's swimming in hallucinogens, Agent Gibbs. Been real fun getting to know what really goes on inside this kid's head. Real kicked puppy you've taken in Gibbs, I must say. All your agents come from the pound, or just this one?"

"He was more like a stray, but I've considered sending him to the pound a couple of times over the years."

"Oh yeah, what happened? Just didn't have it in ya?"

"Something like that. But make no mistake, I have no problem sending you somewhere worse if you don't let him go."

"I think he's ready to be euthanized if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you, and now I'm telling you, let him go or I'll put you down."

The gunman froze holding a slowly buckling-at-the-knees Tony steady while catching the fiery gaze of a determined NCIS agent. "No wonder he kept calling out for you like a loyal mutt barking for his owner."

Gibbs had had enough. A second away from pulling the trigger, he took a slow intake of air, but on the outtake, right before squeezing the trigger, the gunman shoved Tony forwards in a jumbled, uncoordinated heap, turned his gun on himself and pulled, landing in his own dead before he hit the ground mess.

Gibbs only took a second to recover. Stepping over Tony's huddled form, he kicked the gun from the dead man's hand, just out of instinct, and turned back to DiNozzo curled on his side. He holstered his weapon, and squatted down to stare at his agent for a moment deciding whether to slap him on the back of the head, or just turn him on his back.

"Tony," He finally decided, and placed a calloused hand on the younger man's arm and pushed slowly to roll him onto his back. Tony's eyes were still shut and his lips were moving with the unintelligible mumbles escaping between extremely chapped, split, and bleeding lips. The order, "DiNozzo, open your eyes," was followed by a gentle head slap.

Finally, dull, glassy eyes opened and found his. "Nice try, but you're not Gibbs."

Gibbs sighed, and had just enough relief in him to smile. "Rule number fifty-one. Sometimes you're wrong. Look at me, Tony." Eyes found him, but didn't see. "No. Look at me."

It took a few seconds, but finally a small, "Hey, Boss. What took you so long?"

A sigh, "Could ask you the same thing. Were you really planning on letting him shoot you?"

The younger agent meddled through the side effects wracking his brain enough to give his patented half-grin and small chuckle to signify that DiNozzos do not get embarrassed without trying to play it off. "Course not. I just felt bad for the guy...had to give him some kind of hope, ya know? Make him think he had the upper hand, then you could enact rule number sixteen and break it."

"Brilliant plan, DiNozzo, fooled me."

Tony grinned, but it wasn't of the shit-eating variety like it should've been and his eyes almost glazed over with boredom before sliding closed. "Rule number...," he craned his neck trying to catch his train of thought, "fifty-one, Boss."

"Can you sit up," Gibbs asked as he heard sirens in the distance.

"I like sitting...at my desk. Nice desk, but...sad. It's empty, Boss. She...she...- I want to lay here, away from my desk. Away."

Giibbs could silently hear Ziva's name in the long, stuttering pauses spilling from a delirious tongue. "There's other places for you to sit, Tony."

Perhaps it was because the idea of almost losing another member of his team was starting to catch up with him, but he knew by the glassy eyes suddenly staring back at him that his subtle attempt at comfort wasn't so subtle. "Aren't...aren't you supposed to quote rule number eleven now? When the job is done, walk away. Give a head slap and say get over her...-it, get over it."

"Some jobs are never over, DiNozzo. You don't walk away from family."

And maybe that's why when two weeks later another gun barrel was pressed against his burning flesh, Tony didn't lean into it, wasn't relieved. Instead, he bit back a sarcastic remark that would make even Gibbs grin before giving in a few seconds later, waited until the man himself showed up, followed closely by McGee, for help, and went back to the only job he could never lose. After all, Gibbs had given him an order.

He couldn't walk away from his family, no matter how hard it was to stay.

AN: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think if you feel inclined! :)