159Glad to know you're enjoying this. This chapter was probably one of the harder ones of this story, since McGee was probably most in denial and we weren't told whether he took anything, so I had to try and think of something without ruining the thought of him still in denial. But I think it turned out pretty well and the item is still symbolic.
"I never believed you were dead. Even Ziva gave up on you. But I didn't."
He was in shock. He felt completely detached as he moved down into the squadroom after seeing Tony's car get blown up all around him; on every screen in MTAC.
Tony couldn't have died. Tony was larger then life, one of the only constants that there really was on the job. Even Gibbs had left them behind, 'retiring' to Mexico. But Tony had still been there, teasing them, stepping up to the role that had been thrusted upon him so suddenly.
He had never really entertained the notion of the senior agent actually dying. For goodness sakes, he had survived the damn pneumonic plague, and lived through an explosion not even a fortnight later!
Looking at the many situations Tony had lived through, it just seemed wrong that his beloved car would be his final downfall. It was wrong. Tony wasn't meant to die. He was meant to survive against insurmountable odds, but still be there, being their second in command, giving them advice that sounded like teasing but, in the abstract, was good, sound advice (and had he gone through some embarrassing situations before he had learnt to look between the lines!)
He hesitated in front of Tonys desk on his way to his own desk to get the keys for the truck. Tony's desk, which should have held the smiling, joking, federal agent. But it didn't. Tony wasn't there. But he would be. Because there was no way that Tony could be dead. No way that he had survived so much, gone through so much heartache, just to die on a normal day, probably driving to meet up with his girlfriend.
His girlfriend. Probably the one woman that it looked like Tony was actually going to marry. But now… No, he would still have the chance. He had to keep repeating that to himself, because Tony would be – had to be fine. He didn't know if he would be able to handle it.
Losing Kate had been one thing. Losing Tony would be another. For one thing, he had barely known Kate two years. He'd known Tony close to five, now. And for another, Tony was the one who had taken him under his wing. Tony had been the one to claim him as his 'Probie'. And as annoyed as he sometimes was at the nickname, he did know that it really was almost like an affectionate petname.
He looked at an innocent magazine lying on the shelves behind the desk. He gave a chuckle when he saw that it was GSM; he ignored the fact that his laugh was shaky and that his eyes were wet.
Tony had been trying to cut back on the mens magazines lately, ever since he and Jeanne had really gotten serious. But while he'd gotten rid of any other ones, he still occasionally looked through GSM.
He looked at the magazine, remembering many conversations that had been born because of the magazine; or because of similar issues. He could remember with vivid clarity the many times Tony had told him that he should become 'more of a man'. Of course, reading GSM was apparently an integral part of this.
He laughed at the memory of those long-ago conversations (because they hadn't had one since before Gibbs had left), blinking more rapidly.
Without thinking about it, he grabbed that magazine from where it was inconspicuously lying on the shelf. Tony wouldn't care that he had it; and he felt an urge that he had to read it, as Tony had urged so long ago. So long ago, when the senior agent would have been here, teasing him and calling him Probie instead of being who knows where, in who knows what kind of condition.
He went over to his own desk, refusing to look back at Tony's, which just looked wrong without the larger then life senior field agent sitting behind it. He threw the magazine in his drawer, taking the opportunity to take his gun and badge out.
He looked at the magazine for another long second before closing the draw. Tony would probably tease him when he found out about it. But for once, he honestly didn't care. Because it would mean that he was alive.
He knew that Ziva thought that he was in denial. But there had to be something, anything, that would prove that Tony didn't die in that car.
But despite his refusal to believe that Tony had been killed, he still almost collapsed from relief when Ducky told them that the body in autopsy wasn't Tony. He shuddered when he recalled the memories Ducky brought up – of the last time that Tony had well and truly come close to lying on a cold slab in the morgue. He doubted that the image of Tony coughing up blood in that isolation chamber was one that would leave him.
He viciously suppressed those memories, instead working on solving this case.
He glowered at Kort when he strode in. His attitude almost said that he had wanted Tony to be in that car when it blew up.
And then Tony appeared in the elevator. Even as Kort attacked him, as he, Ziva, and Gibbs held their guns at the man that dared threaten the one they had already nearly lost today… he couldn't stop grinning.
Because he was right.
And even when he got the predicted teasing when Tony discovered his magazine missing, he still kept smiling because the senior agent was there to be able to tease him.
But despite the teasing, Tony still showed up at his door with pizza and beer that night, even though it was obvious the older man was still preoccupied with whatever had happened with Jeanne.
But even though he knew Tony was hurting, he was still thrilled.
Tony, the man who had taken him under his wing (no matter how rough a wing) was sitting on his couch, talking with him…
Tony was alive.
Again, thanks for the reviews, and let me know what you thought of this one!