Title: Two Years too Long
Author: kodiak bear
Cat: Gen
Word Count: 3,300
Rating: T
Warnings: Spoilers for SWAK, Twilight and Kill Ari Part One
Summary: Tony realizes he'd stayed too long and that maybe he'd never had the chance to walk away even if he could.

Two Years too Long

By kodiak bear

There were moments where Tony felt the almost-irresistible urge to run. And he wasn't talking about a jog around the park.

Hey, world! Anthony DiNozzo has commitment issues; he knew it, never had denied it, and he also knew they extended far beyond mere women. He figured a shrink could have a field day and probably a few award-winning journal articles from him. A mother that tried to keep him little even while she kept herself aloof. A father that left his son at the mercy of a stream of unconcerned staff members, hardly ever remembering he existed from one moment to the next. Tony didn't need some guy with a degree to tell him his wandering feet were tied to his disconnected childhood.

The trouble was, his wandering had come to an abrupt stop after Gibbs grabbed him from the Baltimore PD, and he hadn't ever been able to really figure out why. The job? More interesting, sure, but the string of close-calls and injuries were adding up. Tony was beginning to suspect he'd be lucky if he lived long enough to have his own team let alone hit retirement. So maybe it was the people? Abby, Ducky, Kate, Gibbs, and yeah, even Probie.

He could even admit to himself that he alternately craved and feared those feelings. The trouble with caring was that it always left you high and dry. People left, they walked away from you, and then what? You were left with a hole the size of Manhattan and desperately trying to find a way to fill that emptiness. Tony had learned the hard way that it was always better to be the one walking away rather than the one left behind.

He'd really thought this was it. Pneumonic plague. People just didn't survive the plague – they called it "the black death" for a reason. Maybe there'd even been a part of him that figured it was as good of a time to let go as any. He'd been with Gibbs for four years and that was two years too long, when you stacked it up against his past record and against attachments that were growing too deep to cut as easily as a phone call and a new job.

"You will not die," Gibbs had ordered, soft, but with a thread of steel that said there'll be hell to pay if you do.

And just like that, Tony had dutifully rasped, "I gotcha, Boss," even in the midst of drowning in a hospital bed in an isolation room, with every reason to believe this was it, the end, sayonara DiNozzo, and only Gibbs' order said it'd be anything else.

He'd told Kate it was a life-changing experience. He hadn't lied. Up till then, he'd done everything Gibbs had ever asked for and wanted because that was the job. But staying alive – it'd had nothing to do with NCIS and everything to do with Gibbs. He'd fought to live just because Gibbs wanted it. Needed it. What Gibbs needed meant more to Tony than what he wanted or needed, and that was something he spent long nights thinking about in the painful aftermath, coughing and hurting and wondering if he was ever going to feel better again.

Two years too long and still he hadn't even been able to take the full three weeks of sick leave. He hadn't been able to stay away, to let go and die when eighty-five percent of everyone else would've, and when he'd seen the bomb, his only thought had been save them.

He just hadn't realized he'd saved them only to lose Kate a day later.

OoO

Tony had felt it first. Her blood. It hadn't been until after his brain had registered the sensation of warmth spattering against his face that he processed the absence of Kate by his side, Gibbs spinning around, gun up. That's when he finally realized that the spray on his face was her blood, and it was her body on the roof by his feet. And what the hell do you do when you're standing, exposed, covered in your partner's blood, just staring dumbly at her suddenly-lifeless body, when the whole word snaps back into focus?

You do your fucking job, and that's exactly what Tony did.

The rain started at dusk. It poured even while Tony and McGee scoured the area for evidence. Gibbs had left once the area was secured; he'd had to give the director a sit rep and…and maybe Gibbs had wanted to take that one last ride back to NCIS HQ with Kate. It was the last ride she'd ever have with him, with any of them. Tony hadn't asked why Gibbs was leaving the scene, he'd just figured it was for as much, because he'd thought the same damn thing. Just like Gibbs hadn't had to tell Tony and McGee what to do. They'd known and they'd started on it before Ducky had even arrived. The idea of handing it over to another team was as bitter as watching the body bag loaded into the van.

"What angle, Tony?" McGee was huddling miserably in his coat, sighting with a scope on the buildings. "Are we too high?" He made a frustrated sound, down low in his throat, and dropped the scope. "We're too high. Why am I even asking; of course we're too high, otherwise we'd have found something --"

"Not necessarily, Probie," Tony said softly. He pulled the night goggles over his eyes, scanning the floor. "He might've policed his brass." And if the bastard had done that, then they really were screwed. No evidence would make it hard to nail Ari and Tony just wasn't going to accept that…not yet.

"You think it was Ari?"

Tony ignored the water running down his back. He heard McGee's question; he knew Tim wanted to know all he could, to understand, because he'd been on the ground. He hadn't seen Kate shot, hadn't seen her body. He hadn't lived in the aftershock of the moment. Seeing it wasn't the same as being told. Tony hadn't been able to figure out if he envied McGee or if he was pissed that McGee would never have to close his eyes and feel the spray hitting his face…

"No, I think it was some other psychotic sniper who just happened to know we were going to be here and had a grudge to grind with Gibbs."

Tony saw a glitter to the left.

"Sorry," McGee breathed, "that was stupid --"

"Never say sorry, Probie," Tony replied curtly, distractedly, "evidence bag."

"I know, I know…what?"

Tony pushed his goggles up and pointed his flashlight to the side. "We've got casings."

OoO

Gibbs had been Ahab with his Moby Dick and Tony had even said so a year ago. He still remembered that painful confrontation; he'd almost thought Gibbs was going to knock him back a step or two, but he hadn't. He'd chewed Tony out, possibly the worse he'd ever gotten from Gibbs, and that'd been it. Ari had lived, Kate had lived, and there for a while Tony had hoped like hell it'd just disappear, and unlike the book that ended in tragedy, they'd all live happily ever after.

He should've known better. Should've known that life often played out just as sick and twisted as those stupid fairy tales and fictional stories, because after all, wasn't all fiction based in reality? As much as Tony loved all things cinema, he should've known.

He couldn't help cringing reflexively when Gibbs turned to him after he'd delivered the bad news. Truth was, Tony had been inwardly cringing since Kate had fallen; Tony expected Gibbs to be pissed – they hadn't found any rounds, just casings, and yet they'd come back. Left the search in the hands of just three other agents who didn't know Kate like they did. Had. Hadn't worked with her. Cared for her.

Tony shied away, preparing for the slap on the head, and when it didn't come, he was even more confused by the emotional void left in that lack-of aftermath. Why? What the hell was that about? Tonyexpected the slap, maybe even wanted it. Tony had been right there…right there. So close, her blood had covered his face…so close he should've known, should've shoved Kate to safety, should've…

"Tony, you're soaking wet." Gibbs looked at him as if he was seeing Tony for the first time. "Go put some dry clothes on." It was like after the bomb, all over again; Gibbs had ordered him to lie down, repeatedly, foisted food on him, only this time it lacked theGibbsness of it – this was too gentle and it made Tony even warier, rawer.

Gibbs moved past him, walked distractedly to the broad scenic windows in the front of the squad room; he stood and watched the pouring rain, thinking out loud and talking to the darkness beyond the glass, "Ari's rooftop wasn't much higher than ours. Rooflines behind us were lower. No telling how far a full-metal jacket bullet would go, after killing Kate."

As Gibbs ran through the details, partially lost in the memory, Tony just stayed rooted to the spot. He was wet, tired to the very depths of his bones. How could it have possibly been less than twenty-four hours ago that he'd jumped in front of Kate's desk? Or maybe ithad been more… damn, the hours were bleeding into one another. Had been since that car had nearly blown them up –

"How's he know it's a full metal jacket?"

"D'you see Kate?" Tony knew the answer. Knew McGee hadn't. Otherwise he wouldn't have asked.

McGee shifted just a little and admitted, "No. I didn't want to."

Tony had to give Probie points. Least he had the guts to fess up. "Her head was intact," he said quietly.

"So," Tim wavered, hesitant – he wanted to know, Tony could tell, but he was afraid to know, "she didn't look bad?"

And even though Tony had given McGee props for honesty, he still harbored small, mean seeds of resentment. Because McGee wasn't going to live with certain images and flashbacks, Tony's own little permanent mini-movies of horror, because he had gotten to watch his partner die, right in front of his face.

"No, no, not at all Probie," Tony said, turning to Tim, and the grin that flashed across his face almost felt genuine, "in fact, a little mortuary putty right here," he tapped McGee's forehead, "and she'll be good as new." If he could've left it at that, he should've, but Tony – as Kate would've vouched for – could be a real jerk, and it was mostly times like now, where he was angry and hurt and so goddamn exhausted, that Tony's mouth and impulses and anger…it just took control. "Course she was having a bad hair day, though," he gestured behind his head, "right back here, 'cause a full-metal jacket will put a hole the size of a grapefruit --" he slapped McGee in the back of his head, nothing playful about it; it was all carefully controlled pain, "right about there."

"Tony," Tim returned, even tighter, more controlled, "please."

He'd rode Tim's six enough times to know when he'd gone too far. Tony tried to remember that McGee wasn't to blame for this. Making McGee hurt wasn't going to take his pain away. Tony pulled himself back, reeled his anger in. Put a hand on Tim's shoulder and said sincerely, "Sorry, kid." He was, really, and as much teasing as he'd given Probie in the past, he should've kept that in mind now, tonight. He didn't want McGee to have to live with that memory – wouldn't have wished it on anyone else. He just needed some time, some space, needed to get his feet on the ground because they hadn't had time to just stop since it'd happened.

Gibbs turned them back to the facts, ignored Tony's stepping over the line, until he did it again – though that second time, Tony didn't feel sorry about it at all. Kate had been his partner for two years. She'd been there with him after some ugly cases and she hadn't trusted him enough to confess her feelings about Ari? Her worries about him? Son of a bitch, just…son of a bitch.

OoO

Abby's rant was hard – it came from a place he understood, though. Tony stood there and took it, and when she was done, he calmly pointed out the rounds were LaPoa even while he bottled his own anger into basic components. Do your job, find the bastard, then find a good bar with loud music and even better women.

When Abby's rant stopped and she wrapped him in a hug, Tony's resolve wavered. Abby was here and she was alive and warm and he almost never wanted to let her go.

"Tony," Abby clutched him tight, "I'm going to miss her."

There weren't a lot of people in Tony's life right now that he hugged, least not willingly. Gibbs – it was all head slaps and sharpness. There might be something vaguely disturbing in that relationship, but Tony liked it. Even if he was going to end up possibly brain-damaged. McGee…he was competition, and even though Tony might like him okay, a lot sometimes, Tony was still always battling to be Gibbs' Top Dog and nothing had changed that need yet. Besides, hugs weren't really in the equation when something like this happened. Hell, Tony had slapped McGee twice today already. And one of those times had felt pretty damn good.

But with Abby, Tony could clutch right back; he could admit his feelings without a joke and let go of some of that burning anger that was threatening to send him spinning. And he could even say just how much he would miss Kate. Abby didn't expect anything from him, didn't order or ask for the DiNozzo care-free afternoon special. With her, he hugged right back and admitted tiredly, "Me too."

Which made it even more ridiculous when the bullet zinged through the window and dropped them.

In the span of moments, Tony covered Abby with his body. He thoughtsniper,Ari and son of a bitch! Gibbs had been right – Ari never had been aiming for him. Kate had been the target. McGee had been the target. And now, either Abby or himself had been in the crosshairs and it really didn't matter a damn which one. It just meant that the odds of Ari coming out of this alive had dropped dramatically. Go after Gibbs, and he'd defend himself. Go after Gibbs' team, and Gibbs wouldn't rest till your life was just a postscript on a slip of paper.

"You hit?" Tony asked raggedly.

"No." Abby was staring up at him, her mind not quite tracking what'd just happened. "You're heavy," she grunted.

Tony grimaced. "Sorry." Then he was crouching and dragging her to safety, causing Abby to make a short, surprised noise.

He was moving over her, searching beyond the shattered glass and into the downpour, hoping for even a glimpse of Ari. It was hard as hell to fight against something or someone you couldn't even see. Just a glint, one little clue where that bastard was shooting from.

"God, no wonder you're so heavy. Tony, you're all muscle." Abby's gloved-hand was roaming over Tony's denim-clad thigh.

"Abby, shh."

Ari was out there. Tony could feel it.

Her hand patted his rear. "Packing a nice booty, too."

What the hell? Tony turned on Abby, momentarily pushing thoughts of Ari away. Abby patting his ass – it was more than a little disconcerting. "Hey, is this how you deal with getting shot at?" Damn, maybe she'd even been hit? Tony looked at her, concerned. No blood.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, glancing around nervously. "This is my first time."

"Abby!"

Tony's head jerked up. Should've known. "Boss, down," he hissed, "we're taking fire!"

Gibbs ran in, hunched low and started flipping lights off. Right, lights. Tony would've gotten to that once Abby had stopped fondling him. Then Gibbs was crouching next to them asking Abby if she was all right and ordering Tony to close down the park between the bridges.

When Tony had said, "Okay," and started to rise, Gibbs had reached across Abby, grabbed Tony hard enough to yank him back down.

"What if he has a night scope?" Gibbs just asked it plainly; none of the usual DiNozzo, you idiotthat would've normally accompanied the obvious.

Tony mentally did it anyway for Gibbs. "S'good point, Boss." And then he crawled away, off to do the fruitless. Ari was gone; he wouldn't have hung around that long. The most they'd find would be casings. Tony swore under his breath as he made his way into the corridor.

A highly trained homicidal killer gunning for them, a Gibbs being nice, a dead partner… friend –

He went through the motions, got the area closed down. Tony felt like he'd returned to work only for it to all fall apart. He'd almost died. They'd almost died. Then Kate had died. Tony wasn't near as healthy as he'd let on, something they'd mostly figured out, but then Ari had shown and everyone's attention had shifted again. If they survived this, he'd take that week. Maybe more.

But Abby had been Abby and there for a few moments, Tony had found normal helped. Maybe if he could get Gibbs to stop being so nice he wouldn't have to try so hard to hold himself together. There in Abby's lab, he'd almost been able to forget the feel of Kate's blood on his face…

OoO

Maybe there'd been a time when he could've left. Maybe there hadn't ever been a time when Tony could've just walked away. Maybe Tony would never know.

He'd always found an excuse to justify why he stayed. Gibbs needed him. Blackadder had left and there wasn't anyone to replace her. Kate needed to learn the ropes. He didn't want to leave Kate and Gibbs without any back-up. McGee wasn't ready to be a full field agent.

And now Kate was dead. Just two weeks since Tony had been on his own death bed. And Gibbs was being nice.

Ari was out there and Tony knew it boiled down to one of them dying: Ari or Gibbs, and this time it wouldn't be over until one of them was six-feet under. Tony couldn't leave Gibbs now. Honestly knew he wouldn't be able to leave for a while, if ever. Tony's near miss had made Gibbs reveal how much he felt about Tony – felt enough to ask the impossible…to order the impossible, as if Tony could control whether he lived or died -- and Tony couldn't just walk away from that. Both because of what it'd meant for Gibbs to make that order, but what that revelation had meant to Tony. And Kate's death meant they were another man down, again, and Probie was still too green. Kate would have hiscajones on a platter if he left Gibbs high and dry now. Tony knew Gibbs would need someone to have his back.

If he'd ever had a chance of walking away, he'd blown it a long time ago.

Two years too long…and Tony knew it was too late for it to ever be any different.

…now if he could just get Gibbs to stop being so damn nice.