McGee watched Lundy and LaFiamma leave Abby’s lab. He breathed a silent sigh of relief. He hadn’t been entirely sure they’d agree to giving him and Abby time alone with Tony. And he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted them to.
McGee bit his lower lip, hands twitching aimlessly. He didn’t know exactly why Tony had left. He suspected, but he was pretty sure everyone on the team had their suspicions about why Tony quit. Whatever it was, McGee didn’t think he was solely responsible. The entire team had a hand in Tony’s resignation, of that McGee was fairly certain. But what worried McGee was that he might have been the final straw. And now that Tony was back, McGee was genuinely afraid he’d say or do the wrong thing, once more driving him away.
He, Ziva and Abby all agreed they wanted Tony to stay. They’d talked about how nothing was the same without him for hours, more open and honest with one another than they’d been before while waiting for Gibbs to return with Tony in tow. McGee desperately didn’t want to be the one who screwed up what might be their only shot at getting Tony to return to NCIS.
“Relax, will you, Tim.” Tony said.
McGee blinked at hearing his first name. Tony had rarely, almost never in fact, used his first name. It sounded wrong. The same way Tony using his surname had sounded wrong that morning when he arrived in the bullpen. It should have been “McGeek” or “McGoo” or “Probie.” He almost said as much, but was afraid of how stupid he’d sound asking Tony to make fun of him. But, damn it, he missed Tony’s teasing, only realizing after Tony had left how much acceptance and genuine affection it had shown.
“Why are you so nervous anyway?” Tony arched an eyebrow. “You know I don’t bite.” A quicksilver smile appeared, directed at Abby. “Unless, of course, you want me to. I’m always willing to accommodate a lovely lady.”
Abby grinned and winked, clearly enjoying his flirting. She always had, McGee thought with a mental sigh. He’d envied Tony’s easy ability to interact with Abby---with women in general. McGee had never quite figured out how to really flirt harmlessly. He spent more time trying to make a meaningful connection than just being playful with other people.
Ironically, Tony often made the very connections McGee wanted with seemingly little effort. All it appeared to take was a ready smile and willingness to play the fool now and again. Not that Tony was a fool---although, it had taken his leaving for McGee to really appreciate the difference between acting like a fool and being one. McGee smiled wryly to himself, shaking his head. He had missed Tony’s lighthearted demeanor, banter and quick wit even more than he had the teasing.
Abby bounced forward to hug Tony. McGee wished he could hug Tony too, but it wasn’t like they’d ever hugged before Tony left and it wasn’t exactly a manly sort of thing to do. Not to mention Tony would probably belt him one.
“Need to breathe, Abby,” Tony gasped out.
“Oh, right, sorry.” Abby let go. She smiled up at him. “I missed you.”
Tony’s eyes went to the pictures on the wall. “I can tell.”
McGee winced. If he didn’t know Abby, he’d think she had real potential to be what Tony would call ‘a psycho stalker chick’. That LaFiamma had seemed to think so didn’t come as a surprise to McGee, not really, but he was insulted on Abby’s behalf. She was too good a person to be judged and dismissed so quickly.
Abby looked at her wall of photos, grinning brightly before the pride in her display faded abruptly. McGee knew she was seeing the wall the way LaFiamma must have. She looked at Tony uncertainly. “Too much?”
“Just a bit.” Tony smiled gently. “One or two would have been enough.”
“But I had Gibbs’ picture up everywhere, well, not everywhere, but close enough, and I know it hurt you. I mean, I didn’t know at the time. I swear I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to be cruel. Honest, Tony. I wouldn’t do that to you. And when you left, I thought I should at least give you as much face time as I did Gibbs, even more to make up for what I did. It wasn’t fair before, I know that now, so I was just"“
“I know, Abby, I know.” Tony raised a hand to put a finger to her lips halting the rapid flow of words. “I appreciate the gesture, but this sort of…display isn’t really necessary.”
She pulled back from his touch. “I wanted you to know how much I love you.”
“You could have told me that when I was here.”
Tony’s tone wasn’t accusatory or even hostile, but Abby flinched just the same. McGee nearly did as well. That was really the crux of the issue---they’d taken him for granted, never realizing what he added to the team and their lives until he wasn’t there.
McGee made the mistake of thinking he knew Tony---and he was sure the others had made the same error. They only learned the really important things about Tony after he left. Things he had family he could and would go to. That he was far more ready and able to run, hiding without any real effort from their usual means of locating someone on the lam. That he was more important to the team than any of them realized.
“I’m sorry, Tony.” Abby blinked rapidly, overly bright eyes nearly brimming over. Her lower lip quivered as she took a shuddering breath. “I really am.”
“Hey, hey, none of that now.” Tony pulled her into a gentle hug. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” She was crying openly now. “You didn’t call. You didn’t write. You didn’t even leave me a number. You have to be so angry with me.” She hiccupped. “Please don’t hate me"“
“Shhh.” He placed a kiss in her hair, then rested his chin on her head. He rocked her back and forth, clearly trying to calm Abby down. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. And I’m not mad at you, Abby.”
“You were mad and you left us.” Abby nearly wailed, and McGee felt like echoing that sentiment.
Anger had been the best motive McGee thought made sense for Tony leaving. Looking back on it they’d all given him plenty of reason to be pissed. Maybe what Tony meant when he told Abby he wasn’t mad at her was that he wasn’t mad any more.
Disappointment ranked high on the list as well. Although, it wasn’t one McGee really wanted to dwell on. Anger could be exorcised, expunged. If need be, Tony could belt him one---maybe even lay out Gibbs and Ziva while he was at it---and things would be good again. McGee didn’t quite know how one got rid of disappointment.
Hurt was on the list as possible contender for why Tony had left. They hadn’t been terribly supportive of Tony when he’d been acting team leader---insulting and dismissive were the only words McGee could think to apply to how they acted. It wasn’t right, nor had it been fair. Tony had held them together, and they hadn’t appreciate how much he did for them.
The same thing could be said of how they’d acted after the whole La Grenouille case came to light. They were pissy and petty. It didn’t speak well of them, and just thinking about their behavior made McGee flush with shame.
None of them knew Tony had been pulling double duty---but even without knowing they should have at least thought to ask why he wasn’t around or where he went or why he was tired so often. They could have been more understanding about the need for secrecy. It wasn’t Tony’s fault they were in the dark. They never blamed the person responsible, Shepard.
They didn’t give Tony any support in the aftermath. If anything they were even less helpful. Gibbs dismissed Tony obvious heartbreak and loss as of no consequence. Ziva managed to insult Tony somehow in the men’s room, forcing him to apologize for whatever the hell she’d done or said. And McGee hadn’t fully believed Tony was ever in love with Jeanne in the first place much less truly upset.
McGee hadn’t been at all considerate or compassionate on the Chimera when he knew Tony had better reason than most to fear biological weapons. He didn’t give Tony any credit for figuring out how their real life ‘Eraser’ worked, or for realizing it had been Arnett’s wife who killed him. He hadn’t even thought to ask if Tony was okay after leaping into frigid water to save Gibbs. No one else had either, at least not that McGee knew of.
“It’s okay, Abby. Really.” Tony said softly, drawing McGee out of his thoughts and back to what was going on in front of him. Abby had stopped crying. Her make up was smudged and she looked raccoon with black rings around her eyes. Dark streaks making a slow downward slide over her cheeks added to Abby’s overall bedraggled appearance.
Tony placed a single finger under her chin, tilting her face upward. “You might want to go wash you face, honey.”
“Bad?”
Tony chuckled. “You aren’t wearing water proof mascara, Abbs. And I think your eyeliner might have decided to go along for the ride.”
“Oh God. I ran out of my usual brand and I didn’t have time to get more so I just picked up whatever was handy. I never even checked the label. I usually do because I don’t want anything they tested on animals and---.” Abby winced, abruptly halting her babble. “Right. You don’t need to know that. Just give me a minute.”
Tony smiled indulgently. “Take your time.”
Abby headed for her glassed in office. McGee knew she kept baby wipes, cold cream and a wash cloth in her desk. She often used them to remove her makeup when working late. Although, he was never clear on why she took it off when she’d only reapply it again. Some things women did were always a mystery to him, and he was frankly happy to leave it that way.
McGee cleared his throat, more nervous now that he was alone with Tony than he’d been before. Tony cocked his head, green eyes assessing him openly.
“Something you want to say, Tim?”
Again with his first name. McGee nearly scowled, but forced himself not to. He didn’t want Tony reading anything into his expression.
“I know I was part of the reason you left.” McGee squared his shoulders. He could own up to his mistakes, be a man about his own short comings.
“You were.” Tony nodded slowly, acknowledging McGee’s statement and somehow not placing any blame at the same time. “But it wasn’t just you, McGee. You don’t have to take full responsibility.”
McGee took some consolation in having his earlier thoughts verified even as he found it weird that Tony even knew what he’d been thinking. He sighed deeply, shaking his head. This wasn’t supposed to be about making himself feel better.
McGee tried to start again. “We fucked up---the whole team. All of us.”
“Yeah, you did.”
McGee grimaced mentally. Okay…so they were in agreement on that point. He bit his lower lip, eyeing Tony uncertainly. Gibbs didn’t accept apologies but that didn’t mean Tony wouldn’t. Somehow just saying he was sorry didn’t seem like it would be enough to fix things. Judging by the look on Tony’s face, he already understood McGee was trying to apologize---even if he couldn’t actually get the words out. Tony confirmed that thought a second later.
“It’s okay, Tim. I get it.”
McGee nodded, relieved not to have to actually find the right words. He frowned. “Would it have mattered if we had handled things differently?”
“Honestly, Tim, I don’t know.” Tony shrugged. “If wishes were horses, every beggar would ride.”
“But"“
“You can’t undo what was done.” Tony shook his head. “And you guessing about all the possible outcomes will only make you nuts. It is better to focus on not making the same mistake twice.”
“I won’t.”
“Not with me, no, you won’t. But it is something to keep in mind when Gibbs gets a new probie. Or when you get a team of your own.”
McGee swallowed hard, not liking what Tony’s statement implied. Blue eyes met green. “We can’t fix it, can we?”
“If by fix you mean for things to be like they were---then no.” Tony shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t want that.”
“We do.” McGee made a sweeping hand gesture, trying to encompass more than just Abby’s lab. “All of us.”
“I know.” Tony smiled gently.
McGee breathed in sharply. “But you don’t care.”
He could hear the censure and anger in his voice. Tony stared at him. There was a hardness in his eyes that McGee remembered seeing only once before. It had scared him then, and it scared him now. He’d crossed a line and he knew it---McGee forced himself not to look away.
“You really want to go there, McGee?” Tony asked, his voice almost whisper soft, more threatening for the lack of volume and hard edge than if he’d snarled and gotten in McGee’s face.
“Do you really want to start a tit for tat kind of argument that will tell you everything you want to know about why I left?” Tony’s smile took on a hard edge. “You’ll have all the answers, but you won’t like what I have to say. And believe me, you will hate knowing as much as you hate not knowing right now. Is that really what you want, Tim?”
McGee opened his mouth, and then closed it. He wanted the specifics, all the damn details, but he was beginning to understand that there were things he was better off not knowing. Did he really want to knew exactly how large a role he’d played in Tony’s leaving? Did he really want to know just how much anger, pain and disappointment he’d caused?
Tony’s gaze softened and McGee found it easier to breathe. “Or would you rather take the opportunity to just make nice and salvage what we can from of all this so that we can be friends?”
“Friends?” McGee asked, trying not to flinch at how stupid he sounded. “You told Abby you weren’t mad at her, but you didn’t mention the rest of us. There was a lot we did and didn’t do"“
“I’m not mad at you either, McGee.” Tony looked and sounded sincere.
“But you were.”
“Yes, I was.” Tony agreed. “I had a lot to be pissed about, but I got over it.”
McGee took a breath and let it out slowly. “You’re not coming back, are you?”
Tony sighed, and looked away. “Probably not.”
“Why?” McGee stepped forward, reaching a hand out, only to stop when Tony turned away from him. “You said you aren’t mad. You don’t hate us. Why"“
“Because I made a life for myself in Houston. It’s a life I enjoy and I don’t want to give up.”
McGee blinked. He hadn’t really thought about that possibility. He studied Tony, noticing for the first time how much more relaxed and healthier he looked before leaving NCIS.
“You are happy there.”
It wasn’t a question but Tony answered anyway. “Yeah, I am.”
“You’re really happy there?”
McGee jumped, startled by Abby’s reappearance. His gazed darted back and forth between Tony and Abby, unsure of what would happen next.
“Yes, Abby, I am.”
“But we’re family.”
“I have family there too.”
“We were your family first.” Abby stamped her foot.
“Joe and I have been family from birth, Abby. I’ve known him most of my life.”
“But there’s only one of him and you’ve got me, McGee, Ziva, Ducky, Gibbs"“
“It’s not about numbers.”
McGee understood what Tony’s argument implied. LaFiamma and his squad in Houston likely gave Tony everything his old team hadn’t---trust, respect, loyalty, acceptance. Their track record would make that damned hard to compete with.
Abby stared at him. “Tony, come home, please.”
“Houston is my home now.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do.” Tony gave her an apologetic smile. “Abby, please understand, I didn’t run away from you guy…not really. I ran toward something. I don’t want to hurt your feelings…I’m sorry. Really I am, but--.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Abby launched herself at him, hugging Tony fiercely. “It’s not your fault.”
No, it is our fault, McGee thought, we pushed him away. If they had done things differently, if they’d found Tony sooner, if---but none of that really mattered. They weren’t going to get a do over. Tony had already moved on. They were going to have to find a way to do the same. McGee rubbed tiredly at his forehead. He didn’t want to, but there were a lot of things he hadn’t wanted to deal with in the past few months that he’d learned to handle.
“Shh…no more tears,” Tony crooned softly to Abby. “You just cleaned your face.”
“I know.” Abby snuffled, stepping away from Tony, swiping a hand across her face. “I just---damn it, Tony,” she smacked his arm, “you better not try to disappear again.”
“I won’t.” Tony held out a hand to her, extending his pinky for her to grasp with her own. “I swear.”
“I want your e-mail address, your snail mail address, your cellphone number, you home number, the office"“
“I’ll give them to you.”
Abby nodded, accepting his promise. McGee recognized and welcomed the olive branch being offered by Tony agreeing to give Abby ways to stay in touch. Things for the team might not be what they once were---but there was also the chance that things could be more than they had become. It wasn’t exactly what McGee had hoped for, and yet it was genuinely more than he’d expected.
“You can open my gift, Abby.” Tony nodded toward where the wrapped present resided, safely under glass on the shelf above her computer monitor. “It will not be the last one I give you. I promise.”
Abby grinned delightedly. “I’ve got something for you too.”
“You do?” Tony smiled brightly. It was his patented ‘excited little boy’ smile. McGee had forgotten how much he liked that particularly smile. He’d missed it. He’d bet anything Abby had too.
Abby nodded, skipping over to her computer, lifting the glass from where the presents had sat side by side since the day Tony had left. “I do.”
McGee understood for the first time the other present Abby had was a gift for Tony. He’d wondered about it, but had been leery of asking outright. If she wouldn’t tell Gibbs, she sure as hell wouldn’t tell him. McGee stepped closer, curious to finally know what they’d gotten each other.
Abby stripped the paper and had the small box open in record time. McGee was not terribly surprised to see Tony had gotten Abby jewelry, it was one of her favorite things to receive after all. He was stunned by the beauty of what Tony had gotten her. It was necklace; a single five point star mounted on a short chain so that it hung from two of the points. The chain was made of free form links that looped and twisted about each other in what should have been a messy and chaotic form but instead were cohesive and elegant. It suited Abby perfectly.
“Tony,” Abby breathed out softly, clearly awed, “it’s beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Like it?” Abby gaped at him. “I love it.”
“You’re welcome.”
McGee expected Tony to be smug, but instead he looked and sounded almost shy.
“Open yours,” Abby ordered, thrusting out her gift to him.
Tony opened it with far more care than Abby had taken with her own. Abby bounced impatiently, but didn’t try to hurry Tony along. McGee almost did, but forced himself not to say anything.
Tony grinned in obvious delight when he finally revealed Abby’s present"a crystal paperweight shaped like a football helmet. McGee could just make out Tony’s name and college number etched into the high polished glass.
“It’s perfect, Abby.”
Abby beamed.
Tony leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to give it to you sooner.”
“Better late than never.”
Tony gave McGee a look, and he knew Tony meant that for him as well. He’d accepted McGee’s apology, and while it wasn’t enough to make Tony come back, it was better than having said nothing at all. They could build on this and move forward.
McGee nodded his thanks, getting a nod in return. It wasn’t the sort of resolution he’d have written for his novels, but it was one he could live with.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Abby and McGee have the chance to talk to Tony.