Come you back to Mandalay, part I
all warnings are in the Master Post
COME YOU BACK TO MANDALAY
by banbury
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' lazy at the sea,
There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:
"Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!"
Kipling
“Our bonds are all that hold us in this world” Duncan “Highlander” MacLeod
I GIBBS
now
“Go, go, go” The man in full body armor waved emphatically, directing them into the depths of a helicopter. “Faster, faster. We have five minutes, top.” Gibbs watched as McGee shoved the bags inside and took his gear to bring with him. All members of the team hopped in more or less gracefully. He was the last one to get inside.
Gibbs was exhausted. Not the kind that came from working day and night to bring justice to those who needed it; a task he found satisfaction in despite the hard work. No, this was more like he had the entire world on his shoulders and nobody beside him to help. He had his team right there and his friends back at home, and still this weariness plagued him despite their presence. He considered it strange or not so strange if you take into account how difficult it was for him to let others help, to open up to somebody. And there hadn't been said somebody for a while. A long while.
Gibbs looked around. All that activity - the helicopter, the people in camouflage, communication with the gestures, the quiet danger - was achingly familiar, though he wasn’t as thrilled with it now as he might’ve been once, before Kelly and Shannon. He was surprised by himself for admitting it, but he’d rather be at home with his boat and coffee with brandy (he hadn't drink pure brandy for some time now. Two years next month, to be exact) than chasing suspects in the jungle.
Maybe this meant that he was ready to quit it all - for good this time. To be just Gibbs, not The Gibbs everybody relied on, respected, and feared. With the second B for you know what for. At last, there was nobody he wanted to play “the second B” for.
Gibbs frowned at this unwanted train of thoughts and busied himself by checking out his agents, in particular McGee. . He had limited field experience. Kate had the necessary training as an agent, and he knew Ziva had the capabilities to deal with the whole situation.
The case that brought them to the jungles on the Pacific Ocean’s coast in a small Central American country turned out to be a complicated way to get rid of an officer who knew too much. Nobody would’ve guessed it if the guy himself hadn't suspected something and left a note with his wife. In fact, they hadn't even needed to come over here to solve the puzzle, but the problem was that they had realized it only after the team reached the crime scene. Now it was getting to be more difficult to get out of the country than to solve the case itself - some drug lord had picked a quarrel with his neighbor.
They couldn’t get out by themselves - flights to the US capital, never mind abroad in general, were cancelled. Roads were blocked and trains weren't even in the design stage. Finally, after spending two days hiding in the hotel basement among the broken furniture, they were told they’d be picked up by a SEAL group on their way from an operation - their only hope to get out. The team had, had to march through the jungles, spend several nights under the unfamiliar stars, and desperately wanted to be somewhere else, namely Washington D.C.
One of the men from the rescue team crouched down beside Gibbs and thrust a helmet into his hands. He waited for him to put it on, all the while smiling to himself. Even with the headphones on Gibbs had to make an effort to understand what he’d been told. “We might have to jump. If you have any things in your bags you don’t want damaged, it’s better to take care of it now.” He flashed an easy grin and turned back to his people.
Gibbs couldn’t see the SEAL clearly enough - a thick layer of grime and camouflage painting covered the man’s face and the helmet covered his hair, but there was something in his dark eyes that got Gibbs’ attention. He couldn’t pinpoint it right away, but sand and heat flashed in his mind the moment he saw them,
sand and heat, gunfire and shouting, people falling around, someone calling to him, “Go, Marine, go, go, we don’t have much time.”
That guy fired at someone behind Gibbs’ back and urged the Marine forward again. Gibbs looked around - they’d been holding this position for three days without help and lost some people. The rescue team came at just the right moment -he and his team were too stubborn to leave a position that was still worth fighting and too exhausted to get out on their own.
They darted to the helicopters; Gibbs was trying to count the living on the run. The guy shouted again, “Go, go,” and flashed him an easy grin while pushing to get Gibbs inside.
They sat in the copter facing each other. Gibbs was taken aback at seeing how young his rescuer was as he took off his helmet to wipe his face. The guy’s dark eyes looked tired but he grinned at Gibbs again before he dropped off to sleep, using his fellows’ shoulder as a pillow. Gibbs shook his head in amusement - this was still a game for the younger man, most likely one of his first ops, maybe even the first one. Gibbs thought about it till he dropped off to sleep himself.
Only after the debriefing and some sleep had Gibbs realized he never said ‘thank-you’ to him. Not that the guy really saved his life, but then again, maybe he did save him. He was shipped out from the Gulf shortly after that.
He’d never really thought about it afterwards. He couldn’t understand why he did so now, till he saw the SEAL had dropped off to sleep, resting his head on his fellow teammate’s shoulder. It was a strangely familiar gesture and for a second he wanted to ask him if he was in the Gulf in 1991, but then decided against it. He was far too young to have been out there at that time.
Gibbs fell asleep himself.
Finally they landed somewhere new in preparation for being picked up by another copter and shipped to an aircraft carrier and then to Norfolk base by plane. The last thing he heard from their rescuers was somebody shouting for ‘Lieutenant O’Neil’. It sounded familiar and not. Gibbs huffed in frustration - everything in this case just rubbed him the wrong way.
The team went to NCIS headquarters first - to drop off the evidence and type out their reports. He looked at Tony’s desk out of habit as he sat at his workspace and it hit Gibbs all over again. Even now, almost two years since Tony disappeared without a trace; he couldn’t look at his desk and see Kate there instead of him without a shudder.
Today, though, it was another thing that left him breathless. He remembered the dark eyes watching him intently in the copter before shutting tiredly in sleep. He realized just now why they looked familiar to him - they were like Tony’s eyes, searching and never finding whatever it was he looked for in Gibbs’ face. And his easy grin.
For a moment, Gibbs couldn’t see anything other than that grin, which conveyed such sadness. Then he shook his head. No. He could not continue with this obsession. Tony could never be in the army; he just wasn't that kind of guy.
And then it hit him - where he had hear the name O’Neil. In the Gulf. That guy who saved him answered to the name O’Neil. This was too much to take in at this time - Tony and that O’Neil guy and…
He turned to his computer and ran a video file he had watched a thousand times for the past two months.
two months earlier
“Boss!” McGee’s voice sounded a bit breathless, like he was running and talking simultaneously, which he does rather frequently. “Boss, Gibbs, I watched the news just now a-and there was… was a hostage situation in… in Central America and…”
“Get to the point, McGee. You're late.” It was quarter to eight, but Gibbs was already in the squad room and on his second cup of coffee. He was gruff as always or maybe a bit more as he had tended to be for the last year and a half since that strange moment when Tony answered, “No. I’m gone” to the simple phrase, “Yes, he’s here”.
Just like that:
“Yes, he’s here.”
“No. I’m gone.”
And he’d gone.
Since then he always jerked his head up when somebody said, “Yes, he’s here.” Even if it was just about him.
“Tony was there, Boss.”
“What?!” Gibbs jerked his head up towards the big flat screen where the news played. Someone was discussing current financial situation in light of the latest political issues, but it looked nothing like Central America.
“Boss! Boss! I told Abby where to look at… I’ll be there in a mi…”
Gibbs hung up on McGee and strode to the elevator. He rarely went down to Abby’s lab lately - there were too many reproachful looking Tony’s on the walls to his liking. He knew Abby blamed him for the agent’s disappearance and their inability to find him.
Really, were they that bad of investigators they couldn't find one of their own? Kate was sure it was her fault - one too many passing remarks, not enough “thank yous” or acknowledgment of his value… McGee mostly kept to himself, though he denied anybody the right to call him “Probie”. Ziva… well, Ziva tried very hard to put up with them, but she didn’t have any real motivation to pursue their search. She hadn't known him.
Gibbs found it amusing that he'd ended up with the two female agents, but to be truthful he’d not wanted to deal with a male replacement for Tony. Therefore, it was all for the best, when one fine morning a couple months after Tony had gone their new director strode down the stairs with a young woman in tow.
“Gibbs. This is your new agent - our liaison officer from Mossad, Ziva David.” She had looked at him sternly, warning against any objections.
Gibbs had thought it over for a second and then shrugged. He hadn't wanted to look for a new agent - it felt too much like giving up on Tony. This he could handle if not quite accept.
“She’ll do”.
Sometimes it was too much - to have so many women around, but he clenched his teeth and kept moving forward. He had to do that now, after he threw away the best… He cut off that train of thought, still not willing to actually admit it - even to himself and just in his head. He usually scowled at them all at that point and went to get coffee to give himself a moment to regroup.
It never worked.
Just like now.
He scowled at Kate and Ziva before leaving to get his coffee and Abby’s Caff-Pow.
Gibbs peered cautiously inside her lab. He watched Abby stare at something on her computer screen. Gibbs noticed her shoulders shake a little and he made a tentative step inside.
“Look, Gibbs,” she turned to him smiling. Really smiling for the first time in God knows how many months. Tears running down her cheeks, but she was smiling and looked at him with her eyes open in wonder, not in anger. He didn’t even realize that she knew he was there before he let her know.
He went to stand behind her back.
“Look! He’s alive. You see? He’s alive and he’s good. A bit thin, but look at him! We’ll find him now! Right, Gibbs? We’ll find him?”
He couldn’t say a word. There. There was Tony - a bit thin, that’s for sure, but looking better then all those long frustrating months before his disappearance. He was wearing jeans and a nondescript t-shirt, his hair shorter they were used seeing, though it wasn’t strange for that hot climate. DiNozzo stood among the group of people, talking in Spanish, seemingly arguing over something.
He was filmed by accident. They realized it when he looked them right in the eyes and swiftly moved, disappearing from the screen.
Without asking Abby gave him the piece of paper with the name of the place where it was shot, list of Americans who were there - all she was able to obtain for that short time. Tony’s name wasn’t on that list.
Gibbs glanced around. Seeing Kate and McGee standing behind his back surprised him - he had been so engrossed in watching, he'd never heard them.
He had watched those two minutes of Tony more than a thousand times since.
He pulled out all the stops, using his connections in the military and the Feds’. In his desperation, he'd even gotten someone to look up Tony’s name on the list of all the military who were over there.
Nothing.
He hadn't gone down to Abby’s lab since.
He couldn’t bear to see disappointment in her eyes. He still felt her accusing stare from the day they had told her Tony’d disappeared.
about twenty months earlier
“He did what?” Abby said it so quietly that they'd all had to strain to hear her voice.
“He took off, Abs.” Gibbs stood with his back to everybody. They could see the tension in his shoulders and the tendons on the back of his neck were visible enough they looked quite terrifying.
“And you didn’t stop him, didn’t ask?” She spoke with the same quiet and flat voice and Gibbs shivered in the face of her disappointment.
“We were all pretty shocked, dear. I’m afraid I can’t call the way we handled this situation very efficient. Is that what you wanted to hear from Jethro, Abigail?” Ducky sat on her chair and everybody could see his hands trembling a little, betraying his age or maybe the impact of the morning events.
“What do we do now?” Abby hadn't asked Gibbs specifically, but everybody had silently directed the same question his way.
“I don’t know.”
Well, that was a first. Nobody had heard that tone in his voice before. Or the same words.
Tony looked at a second victim crouched beside the body. He inspected his palms, nodded thoughtfully to himself then, stood up, took off his gloves and dropped them near the body.
“You know, boss, this is your killer.”
Gibbs shrugged it off. “Give me the evidence, not just your opinion.”
Tony opened his mouth to say something, but Gibbs had already turned to Kate. He didn’t see the look of bitter disappointment that flicked over Tony’s face. Nobody took note of it.
Gibbs’ phone rang. It was Abby, looking for Tony, who hadn’t answer his phone.
“Yes, he’s here.” Gibbs growled at him and held out the phone for him.
“No, I’m gone.” Tony said it almost casually. He didn’t take the offered phone, snapped his own and walked away.
Nobody said anything or moved for a good five minutes, even Gibbs. Then all of them ran outside the warehouse to see Tony throw his NCIS-regulated jacket and cap in the van before taking off down the street.
“Need a ride, DiNozzo?” All of them could hear a hint of uncertainty under the patented Gibbs’ sarcasm.
“No, Gibbs, I got it covered.” Tony shouted without turning and kept up his steady pace. True to his words, a short time later a military-issued truck pulled over and Tony got inside.
That was the last time anybody saw him.
Then had come the resignation.
They'd spent the next week trying to find any trace of Tony. There were still some clothes and other stuff in his apartments when they checked it out, but the owner told them it'd all go to the Goodwill and the apartments itself was already leased.
They went through his things anyway - no forwarding addresses, phone numbers or personal papers. His NCIS-issued phone lay on the table wiped clean. His resignation paper was sent from his notebook straight to the Director and said notebook had also been left behind and wiped clean. Abby and McGee went through it several times - there were just a couple of card games and the resignation. Someone had took time to help Tony hide his trail.
“Sorry, sir! I don’t know what you're talking about. This vehicle was assigned to Captain Bronsky last week. He gave me days off on Monday and on Friday and drove it himself, sir.”
“Where can I find Captain Bronsky?” Gibbs asked, his teeth clenched. This was the third driver he'd talked to and he was nowhere near finding the one who actually drove that goddamned car that morning.
“He’s shipped off to the training base on the West Coast.”
“What base?” Gibbs patience was wearing off.
“I can’t tell you, sir.”
Gibbs abruptly turned away. He was bone tired all of a sudden and began to question himself for the first time in twenty years. He wasn’t sure his famous gut had led them the right way.
He didn’t know what he felt. He was certainly outraged. At least at first. And concerned for Tony. He couldn’t understand what DiNozzo was up to and in the deepest parts of his soul where he didn’t need to say it out loud he knew that he was the core of the problem behind Tony’s disappearance. That unsettled him more than Tony's absence.
“I pulled his phone records, B-Boss.” McGee watched Gibbs with a hint of uncertainty, as he always did these days.
“And…?” Gibbs waved impatiently.
“There were calls on the unknown numbers. I checked it out - the number belongs to the “Presidio Detective Agency” and one sealed number.”
“Call them.”
“B-Boss, we can’t just ask them out of the blue. They’ll ask questions in return and want a valid reason for why we want to know it. I h-hacked their closed records and I’m going through the employees list right now. M-maybe we…”
“Give it to me and I… What?” Gibbs saw as McGee’s face suddenly paled and he looked helplessly at the screen…
The older man came closer.
There was his own face staring at him from the monitor. Almost his own - a few more smile lines at the corners of the eyes, hair darker, smile bigger.
He turned the screen to himself and began to read.
He read it several times - about his doppelganger’s work for the military police, SFPD, privet agency. About his wife, son, and daughter. The commendations and clean record.
He learned the address in the old part of San Francisco by heart. But there was nothing in Jay Austin’s file about one Tony DiNozzo.
Gibbs didn’t stop to think about it at all. He dialed a number and waited. The voice sounded like his, too.
“Austin.”
Gibbs was transfixed.
“Hello.” The voice grew impatient. Gibbs cleared his throat.
“Detective Austin? Special Agent Gibbs.” He wanted to be upfront in any case, even if all everything Tony had ever told this guy about him was really bad. There was silence on the other end.
“Something happened to Tony?” The voice suddenly seemed tired.
“No!” Gibbs winced at his own tone. “Actually… We don’t know.” He stopped abruptly. He really didn’t know what to tell this man who possibly knew Tony better than they did.
Maybe he was an old friend or even a relative - he could be anything based on the little they knew about Tony. “He disappeared a week ago. Of his own free will, as far as we can tell. He said nothing to us though and we are…”
Gibbs didn’t know what more to say. He didn’t know how to ask.
Somebody snatched the handset out of his hand and he heard Abby’s voice, pleading for what he couldn't. “Mister, please, tells us you know where he is. Tell us he didn’t leave us for good.”
“For good,” Gibbs mouthed those words and they left bitter aftertaste in his mouth. He refused to think about it. Actually, he forbade himself from thinking about it at all, but that didn’t work either.
He turned on the speakerphone.
“Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t talk to him for over a month, so I don’t know where he is now.” There was caution in his voice, though Gibbs didn’t believe that the man held anything back.
He loudly said ‘thank you’ and put the handset back.
So that was it.
They didn’t have any more leads for now. He thought of going over to the west coast to look the man in the eyes, decided against it, told everybody to go home and went to his lone basement and his silent boat.
Later that night he became aware that he hadn’t worked on the boat since Tony disappeared. He had instead made one more little ship, the seventh in a row - complete with masts, steering wheel and a figurehead that vaguely resembled a man with a beaming smile and wide-open eyes. There were no sails on the masts though, as if someone didn’t want the ships to sail away.
Leroy Jethro Gibbs put the ship on the shelf and went to his lonely bed.
part II
COME YOU BACK TO MANDALAY
by banbury
By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' lazy at the sea,
There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me;
For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say:
"Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!"
Kipling
“Our bonds are all that hold us in this world” Duncan “Highlander” MacLeod
I GIBBS
now
“Go, go, go” The man in full body armor waved emphatically, directing them into the depths of a helicopter. “Faster, faster. We have five minutes, top.” Gibbs watched as McGee shoved the bags inside and took his gear to bring with him. All members of the team hopped in more or less gracefully. He was the last one to get inside.
Gibbs was exhausted. Not the kind that came from working day and night to bring justice to those who needed it; a task he found satisfaction in despite the hard work. No, this was more like he had the entire world on his shoulders and nobody beside him to help. He had his team right there and his friends back at home, and still this weariness plagued him despite their presence. He considered it strange or not so strange if you take into account how difficult it was for him to let others help, to open up to somebody. And there hadn't been said somebody for a while. A long while.
Gibbs looked around. All that activity - the helicopter, the people in camouflage, communication with the gestures, the quiet danger - was achingly familiar, though he wasn’t as thrilled with it now as he might’ve been once, before Kelly and Shannon. He was surprised by himself for admitting it, but he’d rather be at home with his boat and coffee with brandy (he hadn't drink pure brandy for some time now. Two years next month, to be exact) than chasing suspects in the jungle.
Maybe this meant that he was ready to quit it all - for good this time. To be just Gibbs, not The Gibbs everybody relied on, respected, and feared. With the second B for you know what for. At last, there was nobody he wanted to play “the second B” for.
Gibbs frowned at this unwanted train of thoughts and busied himself by checking out his agents, in particular McGee. . He had limited field experience. Kate had the necessary training as an agent, and he knew Ziva had the capabilities to deal with the whole situation.
The case that brought them to the jungles on the Pacific Ocean’s coast in a small Central American country turned out to be a complicated way to get rid of an officer who knew too much. Nobody would’ve guessed it if the guy himself hadn't suspected something and left a note with his wife. In fact, they hadn't even needed to come over here to solve the puzzle, but the problem was that they had realized it only after the team reached the crime scene. Now it was getting to be more difficult to get out of the country than to solve the case itself - some drug lord had picked a quarrel with his neighbor.
They couldn’t get out by themselves - flights to the US capital, never mind abroad in general, were cancelled. Roads were blocked and trains weren't even in the design stage. Finally, after spending two days hiding in the hotel basement among the broken furniture, they were told they’d be picked up by a SEAL group on their way from an operation - their only hope to get out. The team had, had to march through the jungles, spend several nights under the unfamiliar stars, and desperately wanted to be somewhere else, namely Washington D.C.
One of the men from the rescue team crouched down beside Gibbs and thrust a helmet into his hands. He waited for him to put it on, all the while smiling to himself. Even with the headphones on Gibbs had to make an effort to understand what he’d been told. “We might have to jump. If you have any things in your bags you don’t want damaged, it’s better to take care of it now.” He flashed an easy grin and turned back to his people.
Gibbs couldn’t see the SEAL clearly enough - a thick layer of grime and camouflage painting covered the man’s face and the helmet covered his hair, but there was something in his dark eyes that got Gibbs’ attention. He couldn’t pinpoint it right away, but sand and heat flashed in his mind the moment he saw them,
sand and heat, gunfire and shouting, people falling around, someone calling to him, “Go, Marine, go, go, we don’t have much time.”
That guy fired at someone behind Gibbs’ back and urged the Marine forward again. Gibbs looked around - they’d been holding this position for three days without help and lost some people. The rescue team came at just the right moment -he and his team were too stubborn to leave a position that was still worth fighting and too exhausted to get out on their own.
They darted to the helicopters; Gibbs was trying to count the living on the run. The guy shouted again, “Go, go,” and flashed him an easy grin while pushing to get Gibbs inside.
They sat in the copter facing each other. Gibbs was taken aback at seeing how young his rescuer was as he took off his helmet to wipe his face. The guy’s dark eyes looked tired but he grinned at Gibbs again before he dropped off to sleep, using his fellows’ shoulder as a pillow. Gibbs shook his head in amusement - this was still a game for the younger man, most likely one of his first ops, maybe even the first one. Gibbs thought about it till he dropped off to sleep himself.
Only after the debriefing and some sleep had Gibbs realized he never said ‘thank-you’ to him. Not that the guy really saved his life, but then again, maybe he did save him. He was shipped out from the Gulf shortly after that.
He’d never really thought about it afterwards. He couldn’t understand why he did so now, till he saw the SEAL had dropped off to sleep, resting his head on his fellow teammate’s shoulder. It was a strangely familiar gesture and for a second he wanted to ask him if he was in the Gulf in 1991, but then decided against it. He was far too young to have been out there at that time.
Gibbs fell asleep himself.
Finally they landed somewhere new in preparation for being picked up by another copter and shipped to an aircraft carrier and then to Norfolk base by plane. The last thing he heard from their rescuers was somebody shouting for ‘Lieutenant O’Neil’. It sounded familiar and not. Gibbs huffed in frustration - everything in this case just rubbed him the wrong way.
The team went to NCIS headquarters first - to drop off the evidence and type out their reports. He looked at Tony’s desk out of habit as he sat at his workspace and it hit Gibbs all over again. Even now, almost two years since Tony disappeared without a trace; he couldn’t look at his desk and see Kate there instead of him without a shudder.
Today, though, it was another thing that left him breathless. He remembered the dark eyes watching him intently in the copter before shutting tiredly in sleep. He realized just now why they looked familiar to him - they were like Tony’s eyes, searching and never finding whatever it was he looked for in Gibbs’ face. And his easy grin.
For a moment, Gibbs couldn’t see anything other than that grin, which conveyed such sadness. Then he shook his head. No. He could not continue with this obsession. Tony could never be in the army; he just wasn't that kind of guy.
And then it hit him - where he had hear the name O’Neil. In the Gulf. That guy who saved him answered to the name O’Neil. This was too much to take in at this time - Tony and that O’Neil guy and…
He turned to his computer and ran a video file he had watched a thousand times for the past two months.
two months earlier
“Boss!” McGee’s voice sounded a bit breathless, like he was running and talking simultaneously, which he does rather frequently. “Boss, Gibbs, I watched the news just now a-and there was… was a hostage situation in… in Central America and…”
“Get to the point, McGee. You're late.” It was quarter to eight, but Gibbs was already in the squad room and on his second cup of coffee. He was gruff as always or maybe a bit more as he had tended to be for the last year and a half since that strange moment when Tony answered, “No. I’m gone” to the simple phrase, “Yes, he’s here”.
Just like that:
“Yes, he’s here.”
“No. I’m gone.”
And he’d gone.
Since then he always jerked his head up when somebody said, “Yes, he’s here.” Even if it was just about him.
“Tony was there, Boss.”
“What?!” Gibbs jerked his head up towards the big flat screen where the news played. Someone was discussing current financial situation in light of the latest political issues, but it looked nothing like Central America.
“Boss! Boss! I told Abby where to look at… I’ll be there in a mi…”
Gibbs hung up on McGee and strode to the elevator. He rarely went down to Abby’s lab lately - there were too many reproachful looking Tony’s on the walls to his liking. He knew Abby blamed him for the agent’s disappearance and their inability to find him.
Really, were they that bad of investigators they couldn't find one of their own? Kate was sure it was her fault - one too many passing remarks, not enough “thank yous” or acknowledgment of his value… McGee mostly kept to himself, though he denied anybody the right to call him “Probie”. Ziva… well, Ziva tried very hard to put up with them, but she didn’t have any real motivation to pursue their search. She hadn't known him.
Gibbs found it amusing that he'd ended up with the two female agents, but to be truthful he’d not wanted to deal with a male replacement for Tony. Therefore, it was all for the best, when one fine morning a couple months after Tony had gone their new director strode down the stairs with a young woman in tow.
“Gibbs. This is your new agent - our liaison officer from Mossad, Ziva David.” She had looked at him sternly, warning against any objections.
Gibbs had thought it over for a second and then shrugged. He hadn't wanted to look for a new agent - it felt too much like giving up on Tony. This he could handle if not quite accept.
“She’ll do”.
Sometimes it was too much - to have so many women around, but he clenched his teeth and kept moving forward. He had to do that now, after he threw away the best… He cut off that train of thought, still not willing to actually admit it - even to himself and just in his head. He usually scowled at them all at that point and went to get coffee to give himself a moment to regroup.
It never worked.
Just like now.
He scowled at Kate and Ziva before leaving to get his coffee and Abby’s Caff-Pow.
Gibbs peered cautiously inside her lab. He watched Abby stare at something on her computer screen. Gibbs noticed her shoulders shake a little and he made a tentative step inside.
“Look, Gibbs,” she turned to him smiling. Really smiling for the first time in God knows how many months. Tears running down her cheeks, but she was smiling and looked at him with her eyes open in wonder, not in anger. He didn’t even realize that she knew he was there before he let her know.
He went to stand behind her back.
“Look! He’s alive. You see? He’s alive and he’s good. A bit thin, but look at him! We’ll find him now! Right, Gibbs? We’ll find him?”
He couldn’t say a word. There. There was Tony - a bit thin, that’s for sure, but looking better then all those long frustrating months before his disappearance. He was wearing jeans and a nondescript t-shirt, his hair shorter they were used seeing, though it wasn’t strange for that hot climate. DiNozzo stood among the group of people, talking in Spanish, seemingly arguing over something.
He was filmed by accident. They realized it when he looked them right in the eyes and swiftly moved, disappearing from the screen.
Without asking Abby gave him the piece of paper with the name of the place where it was shot, list of Americans who were there - all she was able to obtain for that short time. Tony’s name wasn’t on that list.
Gibbs glanced around. Seeing Kate and McGee standing behind his back surprised him - he had been so engrossed in watching, he'd never heard them.
He had watched those two minutes of Tony more than a thousand times since.
He pulled out all the stops, using his connections in the military and the Feds’. In his desperation, he'd even gotten someone to look up Tony’s name on the list of all the military who were over there.
Nothing.
He hadn't gone down to Abby’s lab since.
He couldn’t bear to see disappointment in her eyes. He still felt her accusing stare from the day they had told her Tony’d disappeared.
about twenty months earlier
“He did what?” Abby said it so quietly that they'd all had to strain to hear her voice.
“He took off, Abs.” Gibbs stood with his back to everybody. They could see the tension in his shoulders and the tendons on the back of his neck were visible enough they looked quite terrifying.
“And you didn’t stop him, didn’t ask?” She spoke with the same quiet and flat voice and Gibbs shivered in the face of her disappointment.
“We were all pretty shocked, dear. I’m afraid I can’t call the way we handled this situation very efficient. Is that what you wanted to hear from Jethro, Abigail?” Ducky sat on her chair and everybody could see his hands trembling a little, betraying his age or maybe the impact of the morning events.
“What do we do now?” Abby hadn't asked Gibbs specifically, but everybody had silently directed the same question his way.
“I don’t know.”
Well, that was a first. Nobody had heard that tone in his voice before. Or the same words.
Tony looked at a second victim crouched beside the body. He inspected his palms, nodded thoughtfully to himself then, stood up, took off his gloves and dropped them near the body.
“You know, boss, this is your killer.”
Gibbs shrugged it off. “Give me the evidence, not just your opinion.”
Tony opened his mouth to say something, but Gibbs had already turned to Kate. He didn’t see the look of bitter disappointment that flicked over Tony’s face. Nobody took note of it.
Gibbs’ phone rang. It was Abby, looking for Tony, who hadn’t answer his phone.
“Yes, he’s here.” Gibbs growled at him and held out the phone for him.
“No, I’m gone.” Tony said it almost casually. He didn’t take the offered phone, snapped his own and walked away.
Nobody said anything or moved for a good five minutes, even Gibbs. Then all of them ran outside the warehouse to see Tony throw his NCIS-regulated jacket and cap in the van before taking off down the street.
“Need a ride, DiNozzo?” All of them could hear a hint of uncertainty under the patented Gibbs’ sarcasm.
“No, Gibbs, I got it covered.” Tony shouted without turning and kept up his steady pace. True to his words, a short time later a military-issued truck pulled over and Tony got inside.
That was the last time anybody saw him.
Then had come the resignation.
They'd spent the next week trying to find any trace of Tony. There were still some clothes and other stuff in his apartments when they checked it out, but the owner told them it'd all go to the Goodwill and the apartments itself was already leased.
They went through his things anyway - no forwarding addresses, phone numbers or personal papers. His NCIS-issued phone lay on the table wiped clean. His resignation paper was sent from his notebook straight to the Director and said notebook had also been left behind and wiped clean. Abby and McGee went through it several times - there were just a couple of card games and the resignation. Someone had took time to help Tony hide his trail.
“Sorry, sir! I don’t know what you're talking about. This vehicle was assigned to Captain Bronsky last week. He gave me days off on Monday and on Friday and drove it himself, sir.”
“Where can I find Captain Bronsky?” Gibbs asked, his teeth clenched. This was the third driver he'd talked to and he was nowhere near finding the one who actually drove that goddamned car that morning.
“He’s shipped off to the training base on the West Coast.”
“What base?” Gibbs patience was wearing off.
“I can’t tell you, sir.”
Gibbs abruptly turned away. He was bone tired all of a sudden and began to question himself for the first time in twenty years. He wasn’t sure his famous gut had led them the right way.
He didn’t know what he felt. He was certainly outraged. At least at first. And concerned for Tony. He couldn’t understand what DiNozzo was up to and in the deepest parts of his soul where he didn’t need to say it out loud he knew that he was the core of the problem behind Tony’s disappearance. That unsettled him more than Tony's absence.
“I pulled his phone records, B-Boss.” McGee watched Gibbs with a hint of uncertainty, as he always did these days.
“And…?” Gibbs waved impatiently.
“There were calls on the unknown numbers. I checked it out - the number belongs to the “Presidio Detective Agency” and one sealed number.”
“Call them.”
“B-Boss, we can’t just ask them out of the blue. They’ll ask questions in return and want a valid reason for why we want to know it. I h-hacked their closed records and I’m going through the employees list right now. M-maybe we…”
“Give it to me and I… What?” Gibbs saw as McGee’s face suddenly paled and he looked helplessly at the screen…
The older man came closer.
There was his own face staring at him from the monitor. Almost his own - a few more smile lines at the corners of the eyes, hair darker, smile bigger.
He turned the screen to himself and began to read.
He read it several times - about his doppelganger’s work for the military police, SFPD, privet agency. About his wife, son, and daughter. The commendations and clean record.
He learned the address in the old part of San Francisco by heart. But there was nothing in Jay Austin’s file about one Tony DiNozzo.
Gibbs didn’t stop to think about it at all. He dialed a number and waited. The voice sounded like his, too.
“Austin.”
Gibbs was transfixed.
“Hello.” The voice grew impatient. Gibbs cleared his throat.
“Detective Austin? Special Agent Gibbs.” He wanted to be upfront in any case, even if all everything Tony had ever told this guy about him was really bad. There was silence on the other end.
“Something happened to Tony?” The voice suddenly seemed tired.
“No!” Gibbs winced at his own tone. “Actually… We don’t know.” He stopped abruptly. He really didn’t know what to tell this man who possibly knew Tony better than they did.
Maybe he was an old friend or even a relative - he could be anything based on the little they knew about Tony. “He disappeared a week ago. Of his own free will, as far as we can tell. He said nothing to us though and we are…”
Gibbs didn’t know what more to say. He didn’t know how to ask.
Somebody snatched the handset out of his hand and he heard Abby’s voice, pleading for what he couldn't. “Mister, please, tells us you know where he is. Tell us he didn’t leave us for good.”
“For good,” Gibbs mouthed those words and they left bitter aftertaste in his mouth. He refused to think about it. Actually, he forbade himself from thinking about it at all, but that didn’t work either.
He turned on the speakerphone.
“Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t talk to him for over a month, so I don’t know where he is now.” There was caution in his voice, though Gibbs didn’t believe that the man held anything back.
He loudly said ‘thank you’ and put the handset back.
So that was it.
They didn’t have any more leads for now. He thought of going over to the west coast to look the man in the eyes, decided against it, told everybody to go home and went to his lone basement and his silent boat.
Later that night he became aware that he hadn’t worked on the boat since Tony disappeared. He had instead made one more little ship, the seventh in a row - complete with masts, steering wheel and a figurehead that vaguely resembled a man with a beaming smile and wide-open eyes. There were no sails on the masts though, as if someone didn’t want the ships to sail away.
Leroy Jethro Gibbs put the ship on the shelf and went to his lonely bed.
part II