— I own only this story and any original characters. —

This is one of these things I would like to call as... brain fart. Error in the system. Blender going crazy and making a mess. At first I almost decided to write it as part of the 'Bullseye', but then it became this instead.

Leo

"I know you didn't bring me out here to drown. So why am I ten feet under and upside down?

Barely surviving has become my purpose. Cause I'm so used to living underneath the surface..."

—Storm by Lifehouse

...

The door slammed behind him, as if somehow it could calm the raging storm inside him. That was never the case and he should know it by now. Just like he should've known when to walk away, years ago.

He'd given it all, his everything and so much more than anyone had any right to even ask of him. He'd given all that and he still kept giving, his best years and his worst years, other than his childhood. What more could he give up until he was deemed worthy? What more did they want? It seemed not for the first time that his life had to be cursed. Looking at the people around him, he saw happiness; short, long, past, present or coming in the future. They all had it at some point. How long would he have to keep waiting for his chance and keep living a lie? He wasn't getting any younger.

Looking around at his silent apartment, he realized once again just how homeless he felt. Other than the very few close people in his life, who had their own life and worries, he had no support system to fall back on either. Everyone was moving on, everyone but him. Somewhere down the road he'd stopped living. They'd sucked him dry and now he was void of life. Feeling tired and ancient.

Sitting down heavily on the floor of his living room, Tony leaned the back of his head against the couch, feeling this odd agony in his chest, as if it was something physical he could touch and rip out. It made him feel like he should at least be able to cry. Maybe then he'd feel like human again. What had they done to him, and why had he let them? Flashes of memories came to his head, starting from his less than healthy upbringing, and he had his answer. He thought he had grown past all that by the time Baltimore happened, but then there was Danny, and Gibbs showed up, seemingly offering him a better future, a better everything. Rule 5, what a joke.

He had never both loved and hated another person so much as the old bastard. Not even Senior could make him feel this level of love, hurt and pure fury. It was exhausting, dealing with such a mess of wild emotions. No rest.

Sitting straighter, his eyes spotted the photograph on the wall. Happy smiles. Happy people. Happy 'family'. So happy he almost could cry, but he was too hollow and now even the anger was slowly starting to fade away. It took too much energy, which he didn't have in the first place.

It had all been an illusion, he knew that now. It took way too many years, but he could finally see the truth. It was a hard lesson learned too late, but nevertheless, it was a lesson learned. They hadn't earned his trust and loyalty for all these years. Gibbs hadn't earned it and yet he would always be demanding it for himself, like it was his birthright. If only the man knew... The loyal St. Bernard was no more. It seemed Gibbs was too blind to realize that. For having such infamous gut, it kept failing when it truly mattered. Thinking himself the king who answered to no Man, when he was a servant just like the rest of them. Pawns in somebody else's games.

Taking out his trusted SIG, Tony weighted his options for a while, but after thinking about it and once the moment madness had passed, he reluctantly moved the weapon away. His neighbors had done nothing deserving this kind of scare of their lives. Or to be traumatized, if somebody was foolhardy enough to come check on him. With the gun still in his hand, he slowly stood up, wincing as his old sports injury made itself known; no, he truly wasn't getting any younger. Instead of shooting the picture, he took it from the wall and tossed it outside the open window, only then conscious enough to wish no one would get hit.

His phone started ringing. Staring at it silently for a while, he felt small lingering hope awaken inside him once again, but then he remembered who the person calling him was. Gibbs, rule 6, no apologies and no acknowledging mistakes.

The ringing could still be heard when the phone followed after the picture outside the window.

He knew he had both the means and ability to do it. He had saved up enough cash during the years, because you never knew when you might need it, and he had made other arrangements as well. All that was left was to make up his mind.

Feeling regret that he had destroyed his phone, he searched until he found one of his burner phones and he made the call, which he never thought he'd be making for this kind of reason. "It's me. I need that favor now..."

...

...

Gibbs massaged his forehead as he entered the bullpen, somehow managing to carry his two big mugs of coffee in one hand. Once again he cursed his SFA for his lousy mood and even his headache. He'd spent last night trying to call Tony. First it had been to continue their mother of all their arguments, which started at work and he had decided to continue after few drinks. Then he had grown irritated when he couldn't reach him, after Tony left in a hissy fit. Finally, Gibbs had started to get worried. By morning he was back to anger, thanks to his lack of sleep and a hangover. He had to admit to himself that he couldn't drink the way he used to.

"Where's DiNozzo?" he growled for the third time that day.

"H-he... We still don't know," McGee stammered. Bishop, who was not yet quite so used to this level of the 'second b', kept her eyes either on her desk or the computer screen.

Before Gibbs could demand that they kept looking, Vance called him. Having that strange and familiar feeling in his gut again, Gibbs stormed in the Director's office.

Vance had an odd look on his face. It was almost sad and compassionate. "I got a phone call."

"And?" Gibbs was impatient. He had no time for this when he had one missing SFA.

"It's DiNozzo. They found his body." Vance was still feeling more shaken than he thought he would after being told the news.

For a moment everything stopped and then Gibbs staggered as if someone had hit him, the mugs of coffee falling on the floor. "What? No... How..?"

"There was an explosion. Thankfully there were no other casualties."

"Explosion?" Gibbs perked up as he remembered another explosion and how DiNozzo hadn't died when they had been so sure of it at first. "How do they know it's him? We need the body."

Vance narrowed his eyes at the tone of voice and only barely didn't remind the man who was the boss of whom in this situation. "There's no doubt."

"I don't believe it. Did you tell them to hand over the case to us?" To me, remained unsaid, but not unclear.

Vance shook his head. "You're too close to this, Gibbs. They are giving the case to us, but another team will work on it."

Gibbs had that look on his face again, which Vance knew meant one huge battle of wills. But this time he couldn't bend and give up or even make any compromises. For a reason he didn't know, someone somewhere on a higher seat had given the order that team Gibbs was to be kept away, which included even their Medical Examiner and Forensic Scientist. As Vance tuned out his Agent's furious tirade and demands—even flat out threats—he couldn't help but wonder... Something didn't add up, but he loved his own seat too much to risk it for DiNozzo.

...

— ONE YEAR LATER —

...

Tony had never felt so free in his entire life. Even before that last year, he had already been tempted for so long to end things one way or another. And that's why Tony DiNozzo was dead and he had been born again as Daniel Paddington, which honestly, wasn't exactly a lie. He was a Paddington through his mother and Daniel was his middle name. Sure, perhaps his way of ending things had been too drastic, but at the time it had seemed perfectly logical, and truthfully, he couldn't find it in himself to feel any regrets. Not when he knew that Gibbs wouldn't have simply let him walk away happily, unless the man himself was the one kicking him out. Oh no, the bastard would've made his life even more miserable. He still didn't like to think about any of it, but thankfully all that was now in the past.

Stopping his car in front of the main house, he stepped out and once again admired his vineyard farther away, which looked beyond picturesque, biased as he may be. But it was his house and his vineyard. His piece of paradise on earth. Who would've thought? He had never even imagined doing something like this—he was a cop—but while the 'itch' was still there to solve crimes and mysteries, and fight for justice, he was sure he could get used to this life with some time. Either way this was better than what he used to have. He felt alive and could finally breathe again. Both figuratively and literally, he could breathe.

"Daniel!"

He flashed his grin and jogged closer to his housekeeper. The old lady was like a mother to him and she was also one of the very few who knew about his former life. Without looking like one, she had much more of that famous Marine spirit in her than Gibbs ever had during the time he knew the man.

"Everything been good while I was gone?" he asked in Italian, but the woman ignored his question and instead frowned at the massive bruise in the middle of his forehead, which he had somehow forgotten, despite the lingering headache.

"What did you do?"

"I think I fell..?" He didn't mean to make it sound like a question, but there was something about the woman that made him feel like a young adolescent boy.

"You think? I am calling the doctor!"

"No! I'm fine!" He sighed and watched after her angry retreating back. She was muttering few colorful words that made him wince. At least she wasn't the head-slapping type, thank God.

Turning around he once again looked at the land, which gave him that warm feeling whenever he came home. The echo of that hollowness was still there, more like a memory now or a still healing wound, but he was slowly healing. He was truly home this time and he'd surely be damned if he allowed anyone to ever again take that feeling from him. Daniel was still a work in progress and while living in Italy took some adjustments, he didn't feel stressed out or like he was living with the Tony DiNozzo undercover persona. He was still unsure which was more real, Daniel or Tony from the past.

Closing his eyes, he sent his silent thanks to whoever had made it possible for him to start over, because most people couldn't. And maybe this wasn't the right thing to do and was a little bit too much like something Gibbs would've done, but for once in his life he decided to be selfish and remove any and all distractions. He was done. And maybe some of them had grieved over his death, but they would've moved on by now, leaving Tony DiNozzo to become just another name from the past, a fading image soon to be forgotten. And while it was still a work in progress, he was working on slowly erasing the very memory of them, of Gibbs, Senior, the team. All of them. Well, almost.

Realizing he had spent too much time daydreaming again, he snapped out of his thoughts with a grimace when a car stopped next to him with an angry screech.

"I thought since you no longer run after the bad guys, this would stop. I followed you here not to become your personal doctor, but to help the poor. What did you do this time?"

"And she needs to stop calling you here every time I get a scratch, Doctor... How's Breena and the kid?"

Jimmy ignored the question and winced when he saw his friend's forehead. "Please don't tell me you were driving around with that. Don't answer."

"Looks worse than it is and I was driving slow."

"Knowing you, it's probably worse than it looks. You're still going to explain how it happened."

Sometime later found the two former NCIS residents sitting outside the big house, drinking wine and eating. 'Daniel' had to ask the question that had been taunting him lately. "Do you ever regret following me here?"

Jimmy frowned at the way 'Tony' was peeking through with the insecurity. "No. Sure, maybe Italy wasn't my dream or anything, but I have no regrets. And Breena, well, she loves it here. Maybe more than we do. Sure, her family isn't too happy, but this is our life and it was our decision."

Jimmy had left the NCIS few months after the 'death' of his friend. He wasn't that close with anyone else other than Ducky, so it was much easier to leave behind the old life than it would've been for Tony. And he had felt honored to have been chosen as the only one among them to be told that Tony hadn't really died. Although, he could've done without the shock and fainting after walking into his home and finding the 'ghost' of his friend standing in his living room...

"I'm glad you're here, Jimbo. I know I left my entire past behind, but sometimes... You know."

"I'm glad to be here, Ton— Daniel." Jimmy shook his head; it would take a while to get used to the name.

Daniel was a work in progress, but he was learning. Tony DiNozzo had grown tired, but now he was learning to live again. And he'd surely be damned if he allowed anyone to use him again. So while Daniel was older and much less trusting, in so many ways he was feeling younger and much happier.

— The End —