A/N: A dark and emotional one-shot from me. Came to mind late last night. Even though I was tired, I wrote it up because I didn't want to forget it. Can't tell you how many times that has happened. Rated M for language and implied violence. It was inspired by Chirugal's story "Graveside Grieving". Please check it out. She is great!

Surrender

Gibbs sat down at her grave. He rested his back against the side of the tombstone. He looked around him, but didn't see much of anything. It was by pure Marine memory that he was able to navigate through the nearly complete darkness to get to this spot. It was a cloudy night so he didn't even have the advantage of moonlight. It was too bad, too. It was supposed to be full tonight.

Gibbs held the flowers he brought in front of him. He brought them to his nose and took a sniff before setting them on top of the grave. He found no joy or comfort in their scent. Truth be told, he hadn't found much joy or comfort in anything this past week. Not even the bottles he had been hitting every night. This past week, he had been thrown out of more bars for bad behavior than all the other times in his life combined. He was even almost arrested once.

He had been to work once, but he left early and just stopped showing up. That was four days ago. He had even stopped answering his cell phone. He would have just tossed it if it hadn't been for that message she left. The only way he had to hear her voice again. "Hey, Gibbs. Its me. Just reminding you that tonight's the night I'm cashing in that rain check for dinner. Meet you at Alfonzo's at 20 hundred sharp. Kisses!"

Truth was, he forgot. And he felt terrible about it. Not that it mattered. The car accident had happened on her way to his place before dinner. She would have shown up and they would have gone out just like she wanted. She always got what she wanted. Gibbs, of course, couldn't stop thinking of ways to blame himself. It was easier to blame himself than no body at all. The driver of the other car had been killed as well. Hard to blame them. And he could never blame her. Not in a million years. No, it was much easier to find ways to blame himself. Just like he did for Shannon and Kelly. And Kate. Cassidy and her whole team. Jenny. Certainly for Michelle Lee. Now, it was her. Why was it always women? True, Paula Cassidy's agents were men, but there were still a lot of female deaths.

Gibbs felt around in his pocket and pulled out his Sig. He held it in his hands and looked at it intensely. It was as if he was staring it down, daring it to make the first move. He played with the safety, moving it from on to off over and over again. He wanted so badly to surrender to the cold weapon in hand. He was tired. He was done. Done with letting those around him suffer. Done with those he cared for on one level or another dying around him. Done with being looked to as the fucking hero. Done with eventually letting everyone down.

He saw a light in the distance. It was small and unsteady. It was fluttering around on the ground. He couldn't take his eyes off of it. As it got closer, he realized it was from a flashlight. Somebody was heading in his direction. Most likely a security guard, he thought. Just patrolling the graveyard, trying to keep lunatics like me out. He contemplated putting his weapon away, then thought differently. Maybe suicide by cop was his way to go. That is, of course, if graveyard security even carried guns.

The light startled and froze as it hit Gibbs' face. Due to the blinding light being directed right at him, he couldn't see anything or anyone. The light was dropped to the ground as the person holding it fell to their knees in front of Gibbs. Once his eyes adjusted, he was able to make out the face of his Senior Field Agent. Or he used to be. Gibbs doubted he had a job anymore.

Tony looked like hell. As if he hadn't slept in ages. Plus, he had been crying recently. His eyes were all red and puffy. There were even wet streaks left on his cheek. Tony reached out and put his hands on Gibbs' knees. "You're alive," Tony muttered. Gibbs sad nothing back. "I thought for sure…I looked for you. Everywhere. You left work, but you weren't at home. I checked…Abby's apartment. You weren't there either. You just disappeared. I thought you had-". Tony cut himself off when he finally noticed the gun in Gibbs' hand.

Gibbs could sense Tony's unease. He couldn't blame the guy for thinking what he was thinking. Tony was right. Almost. In a few minutes, Gibbs planned on being 'gone', just like Tony thought. He just didn't want it done in front of a live audience. "Go home, Tony." But he didn't move. He didn't even flinch. He stayed where he was, as if Gibbs hadn't spoken a word. "Tony. Go. Home."

This time, the young man shook his head. "No."

"Tony, get out of here," Gibbs said more forcefully.

"No," he said back just as strongly.

Gibbs quickly raised the gun and pointed it at Tony. "Go away!" he screamed.

Tony was taken aback, but only for a split second. Anger suddenly clouded his eyes. "You gonna shoot me, Gibbs?" He grabbed Gibbs' gun hand. "You gonna kill me?" he asked louder. He shoved the barrel of the gun into his own chest. "Then do it!" he screamed. "Do it! Pull the god damn trigger and end this fucking nightmare!" Gibbs yanked the gun back and pushed Tony backwards.

He stayed lying on his back, waiting for something to happen. He wasn't sure how long he lay there. When nothing happened, he sat up. Gibbs was staring at the gun or the ground. Tony couldn't be sure which. "What have you been doing, Gibbs? You're wearing the same clothes you wore to work four days ago. You reek of alcohol." Tony waited for a response, but there wasn't one. "You think this is what she wanted? You becoming some drunk who offs himself on her grave. You really think Abby wanted that?!"

"She didn't want to die," Gibbs said, barely audible.

"No one truly wants to die. Even now, you don't really want to pull that trigger." Tony saw Gibbs wipe at his face. "We all want her back. Its just…not going to happen." Tony stood up from the ground. "Abby always thought of us as a family. Right now, that family is in a crisis and needs to band together and be strong for one another." Gibbs looked up at him. "We need you, Boss." Tony held his hand out to the broken man sitting against the tombstone. "Let's get you home."