MEXICO IN THE REARVIEW

AN: If you are reading part two of Shafted, this is the same story. I had posted it there, mainly because I could not come up with a name. I thought of the name last night. I am still posting under "Shafted" to limit confusion.

For those of you reading this for the first time, I wrote a piece, Shafted, in Tony's POV. And due to comments received, I wrote a Gibbs' POV piece. I hope you enjoy.

"'You'll do.'" Why the hell did I say that? I ask myself as I look around my basement. At least nothing has changed here. This place, this house, is still the same. It has helped my memory more than I can say. I am glad to be back in DC. I remember a lot. I am still having flashes of memory too, but most things I do recall. And, unfortunately, I recall the last thing I said to Tony before I left for Mexico. "You'll do." I meant it so say so much, but it actually said so very little.

I have been back two weeks. I…I was grateful to Tony because, even though I hadn't asked him to, he had paid my bills that had come in during the 4 months I was gone. I have no words to express my thanks for his consideration and thoughtfulness. I plan to pay him back, though, every penny.

I would give anything to take back my actions that first day back. I saw the look of defeat, the hurt look in his eyes when he saw me back and the things back on his desk. My first response, however, had been anger. Wasn't he glad to see me, I thought. Wasn't he glad to have me back, I thought. The simple action of me putting his things back on his desk, of me not picking up the phone had hurt him. It had hurt him deeply and I would give anything, anything in the world for that not to have happened.

I had wanted to be there when they all came in. That had been the plan. I wanted to show them all I was ready to be back. I wanted to make sure they knew I was OK. I knew they had missed me. God, I had missed them so much. Then when Ziva had called me back, when she had needed my help, I had had the urge to come back. I had had the first thoughts of taking my job back. I had had the first thoughts of getting back to my old life. And, it had felt good.

I was realizing Mexico for what it was, my place to run. My place to escape my bad memories, my place to run to escape life, things as they were. The world condition. I had already lost so much in my life. When that ship exploded in front of my eyes, all those lives lost for, what seemed to me, to be a stupid reason. I needed the escape. The escape sounded good. I had come to realize though, that even on the beaches in Mexico, I could not escape. These people I had come to love as family, even though I could not remember a lot about them. They were in my fragments of memories. They were in my mind more and more as I began to remember names. I would wonder how things were going in D.C. I would flash back to the scene of the ship explosion in my mind. The things Franks told me about 9-11. It all formed a continuous news reel in my mind. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't turn it off. I had to let it play.

I was remembering Shannon and Kelly too. I was remembering that pain. That heartache at loosing the two people I loved the most in the world. I was grieving all over again. I was at the graveside, again, holding that dirt clod in my hand. I was crushing it over the open grave, allowing it to shower down in my daughter's tiny casket. I was, again, realizing that I would never hold her. That I would never again hear her call me 'Daddy.' That I would never get to met her future husband. I would never get to meet her children, my grandchildren. That I would never see that tiny girl, become a grown woman. It, the memories, were crashing in on me. I was drowning in the waves.

I…I knew I had made a wise decision. I knew Tony could do the job. He…I taught him well. I trusted him with my life, how could I not trust him with my team?

That damnable 'You'll do.' WHAT the hell was I thinking?

Chapter 2

I came back to a changed team, nothing overtly different, but there was underlying current of unrest. I thought, at first, it was me. I mean, amnesia; nobody was sure how to act around me at first. They knew there were gaps in my memory and they were careful, at first, not to assume I remembered anything. It was annoying, but I accepted it. I mean, the amnesia thing was new for me, too. We were all in uncharted territory. It was a little later I realized what the reason situation was.

I had heard comments. Things said by Abby and Ducky, maybe meant as compliments to Tony during my absence, though they seemed to be rather backhanded ones to me. I took it all in stride. I mean, I was sure of Tony and his abilities. I still am. Nothing has changed there. It…Abby keeping my picture up while I was gone, while it was sweet, as a reminder, now it seems also, to have been a reminder to Tony, a painful one. That he would never measure up to her 'Silver-Haired Fox.'

Everyone needs a period of adjustment. This was denied my team. I can only blame myself for that and for the, then, respective fallout. Tony had been thrust into a position he had not been prepared for. The rest had been forced to deal with a new leader and a radically different form of leadership. How could I have believed, in my wildest dreams, that all would have gone smoothly? I wanted it to. I respected Tony. I expected the others to do the same. I knew of his abilities. I thought the others had been blind not to see them. But the fault, in the end, was mine. I saw behind the mask. I knew what was there. I…the others, with the exception of Abby, did not or could not. Either way, it had made for a messy transition.

I, however, do not and will not take responsibility for Ziva's and Tim's lack of respect for Tony as their Team Leader. I, in the course of bringing myself up to speed, discovered several written reprimands. I had not been told about these, by anyone on Team Gibbs. I had been surprised and very disappointed. First, that the reprimands had to be made. And secondly that they were severe enough to have had to be made part of a permanent employee record.

I had heard that Tony had started drinking coffee and slapping heads. And I had to laugh, imitation being the sincerest form of flattery and all. But then I started to listen, for once I was grateful to the office gossip, the scuttlebutt. I was used to it. I knew my reputation and was OK with it. I was a hard-ass on the old rumor mill. I knew it and I lived up to it 100%. No apologies needed, wanted, or accepted. But Tony, it hurt my heart to hear about the level disrespect he had suffered.

But scuttlebutt is, after all, nothing but scuttlebutt. I needed proof. I…I needed someone I trusted. Someone who would tell me the truth not matter what it was. No matter how much it pissed me off to hear it. I turned to Ducky.

Chapter 3

"I am afraid I did the boy a great disservice myself, Jethro." Ducky admitted to me when I went to speak to him. "I told him he did nothing in the same manner you did." Ducky paused. "It was not because I truly expected him to. He is, after all, not you. But, I know it…it upset him. He was trying so hard to make his own mark with the team, to make the team his. I..I should have recognized that for what it was and let him find his way, do things his way. He didn't need the reminder, didn't deserve the comparison. I believe he felt I was telling him he did not and could not measure up. I am dreadfully sorry for that and I want so much to tell him how much a regret my mistake, my choice of words. I…" Ducky paused and just shook his head.

After a moment, he continued. "At any rate, insult was added to injury, we…well, Abby had told him that he was not you, 'not Gibbs.' That was when they were all upstairs. It was a day or so after you left. Tony told them, and I paraphrase. If slapping heads and drinking coffee helps me to get the job done, than I'm going to do it, so deal with it. He then walked off. He…" Ducky paused again. "…Abby felt so bad. And I…I wanted so much to speak with him about what I had said. I didn't mean to hurt him and I didn't mean to judge him. I…I said those words before I realized what I was saying. He did an admirable job while you were gone." Ducky looked me in the eye. "And you knew he would, or you wouldn't have left him in charge."

I nodded.

"Whenever Tony was down here, Jethro. He, he seemed stressed. Well, I at first thought it was just the new responsibility, but then Mr. Palmer enlightened me on a few things."

"Palmer?" I asked.

Ducky nodded. He called over his shoulder to Jimmy, who was currently in the back room studying.

"Dr. Mallard?" Jimmy asked as he immerged from the backroom.

"Agent Gibbs needs to speak with you." Ducky stated.

I saw a look of fear flash in his eyes as he turned to spoke to me. "Yes, Agent Gibbs."

"Mr. Mallard tells me you know things about Tony, things that I need to know."

Jimmy nodded. "Yes, si… Agent Gibbs."

I nodded, and waited for him to continue.

"Tony…Agent DiNozzo, he was…he was having a hard time." Jimmy said. "Dr. Mallard and I heard the arguments at the crime scenes."

Ducky nodded confirmation.

"Arguments?" I asked. "What were they arguing about?"

"Tony's orders." Jimmy said. "He…they constantly questioned his orders." Jimmy paused.

I shook my head, my anger flaring. "When orders are given you follow them."

Jimmy continued. "Tony was here well past midnight many nights finishing reports, their reports. He, at first, he would return them Tim and Ziva and they would return them to him undone. He would make notes for corrections. The corrections would not be made, in fact, Tony said most of the time they never even looked at the notes he had made. They would just let the reports lie on their desks for a day or two and then just turn them back in as if they had done something to them." Jimmy paused. "Tony just gave up after a while and made the needed changes himself."

"How do you know all this?" I asked. I balled up my fist and fought the urge to strike out against something. I could tell Jimmy sensed my anger. He stepped back a little.

"Tony told me." Jimmy confessed. "He needed somebody to talk to. He…" Jimmy fumbled. "…he, you weren't here. Dr. Mallard was dealing with his mother. Abby, was…she was dealing with missing you so much. I don't think she could see what Tony was going through. She forgot. They…we all forgot…Tony was missing you, too." Jimmy paused again. "I was the only one he felt he could confide in. I was grateful he trusted me enough with what was going on with him to help him."

I nodded. "I thank you too, Jimmy. Thank you for helping Tony and thank you for telling me what was going on."

"I was glad I was able to help." Jimmy replied.

Chapter 4

The picture was becoming clearer and I was NOT liking what I was seeing. I was having a really, really hard time controlling my anger.

My next stop was the lab.

"My Silver-Haired Fox." My Goth girl stated throwing her arms around me for the millionth time since I had been back. "My babies have not had time to do their jobs."

I nodded. "That's not why I'm here."

"Okay." Abby said warily.

"I'm glad you took my pictures down." I started.

"You're back." Abby said, as she hugged me again.

"How was...Did Tony…?" I started, not sure how to ask the question, or, even, which one to ask.

"He was awful." Abby exclaimed. "Walking around here drinking coffee, slapping heads. He was trying to be you and it wasn't appreciated."

I shook my head.

"What?" Abby asked, confused.

"He was trying to make you not miss me so much. He was trying to make the transition easier." I explained. The explanation seeming to come out of nowhere, but, at least, I was finally understanding things, myself, a little better." I paused. "It's amazing…you…you, of all people." I said, shaking my head again. I could see the realization dawn on her.

"I…I didn't meant to hurt him, Gibbs. I swear I didn't." Abby confessed, with tears in her eyes.

"You kept my picture up for 4 months, Abby." I stated. "What was he supposed to think when you kept telling him he wasn't good enough?"

Abby shook her head. She was crying more. "I didn't mean that. I missed you. I missed you so much. But…but Tony, he didn't seem to, Gibbs, and it made me mad. He didn't come and talk to me. We always talked. He never came to me."

I put my hands on Abby's shoulders. "He didn't have time, Abby. He had a team to run. He had to jump in with both feet and do my job. He had to deal with you, everybody's emotions and reactions. How…when was he supposed to deal with what he was going through?"

Abby shook her head and hugged me again, this time crying harder. "I didn't mean to hurt, Gibbs. I swear, I didn't mean to hurt him." After a moment or two, Abby stepped back and wiped her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Abby. I…I didn't mean to…to say all those things. I didn't mean to dump all that on you."

Abby shook her head. "No, I hurt Tony." Abby admitted. "I didn't realize it, but I did. And…I…We'll work it out." Abby wiped her eyes again. "I'll talk to him."

I nodded and left.

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

The rationalizations and the revelations came to me a too little fast while I was talking with Abby. I had some things, so guilt to work through on my part. Several of the things Abby was guilty of, I was guilty of, also.

That damned 'You'll do' kept coming to mind. I couldn't prepare him. I was in no shape to do that. I felt… I felt everything I had worked for, everything I had believed in had blown up with that ship that I seen on the screen in MTAC. I…I was lost. Lost people can't show other people the way. I needed time. I wanted space, not from the team. They were not my problem. And at the time, in my mind, the job had undergone a metamorphosis. It was a big, horrible creature that wanted to eat me alive.

I was expected to lead my team in a fight against bad guys who didn't play fair. Who didn't go by or even understand 'the rules.' And worse yet, when we got rid of one, there were 10 more waiting, eager to take his place in line. And I was supposed to lead my team into that? A conflict I was no longer sure I could, or even wanted to win. I couldn't, in good conscience, bring them into a fight, with me, that I was no longer prepared or equipped for.

Mexico was the answer, it became my oasis. I was lying in the sun, drinking beer and working on Mike's house. Not that he had wanted me too, or had even asked me. But it kept my mind and my hands busy. I also figured it would be a way to pay Franks back for letting me stay at his place. But what I thought was going to be a lifestyle change was started to turn into one hell of a boring vacation. I was drinking too much and getting too lazy. I got tired of visiting the cantinas and the senioritas were getting annoyed at me for messing up their language. I was getting tired of messing up the language. It…I was starting to miss home. I hadn't even told Franks that, and when Ziva called and asked me for help, I almost got down on my knees and thanked God for his 'divine intervention.'

I…my attitude back in D.C. on that trip, however, had not been good. I was horrible to DiNozzo. I made cutting, snide, intentionally hurtful remarks about him not even knowing what was going on on his own team. In a small way, I felt justified. I KNEW if Ziva had been in trouble when I was Team Leader, I would have known about it. I would have handled it as team leader. There would have been no need to ask for 'outside help,' which is what I considered myself at the time.

I also, though can see why Ziva sought outside help. That part took awhile. I had, I thought, taught DiNozzo how to be a good leader. Part of being a good leader is to instill the feeling of trust in your team, your followers. When I heard…when Ziva called me, I second guessed myself about Tony, I asked myself if I had, indeed, made a mistake. That, in and of itself, pissed me off greatly. I don't like making mistakes, and especially not ones that big that could have such tremendous consequences.

I finally realized Ziva simply had not wanted Tony to get into trouble. She knew Tony would help her, even to the detriment of himself and his job. She knew that, was keenly aware, and therefore called me instead.

I found myself unable to apologize to Tony, however, for my actions and my attitude. I…it was not that I wasn't sorry. I was painfully aware of my mistake. I knew I was 110% wrong. I knew I had to make it up to him. But I had no idea how. He didn't like it when I was nice to him. He could only take small doses of that. And at that rate, I would be long dead and buried before I could pay him back.

As much as I hated to do it, I would have to break my own rules and TELL him how I felt. I just wished he would answer his damned phone.

Chapter 5

I stopped just outside the doors to the elevator. I recognized the voices.

"I am so glad Gibbs is back." Ziva said as she and Tim exited the elevator.

Tim looked around, I assumed to see if Tony or I was in attendance. I, meanwhile, moved to the opposite side of the stairs leading to the fourth floor and listened.

"Yeah, me too. I just…it was painful. I mean, Tony as Team Leader. I just don't get it. I understand Tony was a detective in Baltimore. But…I…I wonder how he got that job sometimes. Did they just get tired of him and promote him?" McGee dropped his things at his desk and came back over to Ziva's desk.

Ziva nodded. She took her seat.

I could feel my anger grow with each word. But I managed to keep myself hidden. I wanted them to bury themselves.

"And what was with those 'campfire' things?" Tim said using air quotes.

Ziva nodded. "That was a very strange name for a meeting. I still do not see what a fire had to do with anything." She paused. "And I too cannot see how DiNozzo became a detective. Was he not a goof off there?"

Tim shook his head. "Probably not. I can't see a police department putting up with that stuff."

"Why does Gibbs?" Ziva asked.

"Something about Tony's childhood." Tim's tone was dismissive and sarcastic. "Poor little rich kid. Probably didn't get a Porsche when he was 16 and is still pissed about it. Poor Tony."

"It has to be more than that." Ziva stated.

"He didn't get along with his dad. Boo-hoo. Again, he was a rich kid. How bad could it have been?" Tim asked. "He has to work for a living, again boo-hoo. Most of us had to get by on scholarships and work part-time to get to college."

"Why did he not go into his father's business?"

I could not believe my ears. I…I had to look a couple of times to make sure it was my agents speaking.

"I'm not sure. I mean he could have been a CEO by now, making millions. It doesn't make a lot of sense to me." Tim replied.

"Commanders in Israel would not put up with such...silliness." Ziva conceded.

"Yeah." Tim said looking over to my desk. "I don't understand why he does, either."

Ziva nodded. "The glares and the head-slaps, the coffee drinking, it was a poor imitation."

"I guess he thought he could command the respect Gibbs gets by acting like him." Tim concluded.

"It did not work."

"It was embarrassing." Tim stated. "And we were supposed to respect someone who acted like that? Follow his orders? It was laughable."

"I agree."

I was pissed. No, I was beyond pissed. There are no words. I wanted to go out and choke the life out of both of them. I managed to keep myself hidden, but barely. I needed to calm myself down before I entered the bullpen.

I sat down at my desk moments later. I powered up my computer and checked my email, ignoring the inquisitive looks from both Tim and Ziva.

TBC