(Author's note: So sorry about the long delay between chapters. Depression is a bitch, and recently, it got so bad, I even lost my motivation to write. But I think I'm through the worst of it now. My muse is speaking to me again, so I hope I won't ever make you wait this long for an update again. Thank you for your patience.)

"Thanks for meeting us here, Duck," Jethro whispered to his old friend, giving him a sad smile.

"Oh, it is my pleasure, Jethro," Ducky whispered back. "I know this isn't easy - for either of you. " Ducky pat Jethro on the shoulder, as if to add emphasis to the words that followed. "I am happy to offer my support to both of you, in any way that I can."

Jethro nodded in appreciative acknowledgement, both men watching Tony, who stood in front of them in the elevator, humming to himself as he stared at his shoes.

Ducky wasn't wrong. Revisiting the bullpen with Tony – the last place he saw the younger man as he was, before Ellsworth and Taylor broke him – would be a painful task. But all three men knew that it had to be done. The bitter memory of their last moments together on that fateful night needed to be revisited.

Stepping forward, Jethro gently grabbed hold of Tony's arm. "You still want to do this? It's not too late to back out, you know."

Tony finally looked up, eyes glistening with unshed tears. It was all too obvious to Jethro that all that soft humming and feet shuffling was Tony's way of calming himself in preparation for what was ahead.

"Not backing out," Tony answered, shaking his head. "Just…just don't let go," he pleaded, reaching for Jethro's hand.

Jethro squeezed Tony's hand in response; touched, yet saddened, by how needy Tony had become. Tony trusted Jethro implicitly, and Jethro couldn't help but feel a sharp pang of guilt at this realization, knowing he was one of the many people in Tony's life who had hurt him.

The elevator doors slid open, and Jethro felt Tony's hand tightened around his own; his body leaning slightly into Jethro's as they stepped out of the elevator.

Tony looked around nervously. "You sure we're alone?" he asked, voice quivering.

"Oh yes. I made sure of it," Ducky reassured Tony, patting him lightly on the back. "But there really is no need to be afraid. After all, you have known and worked with most of the people here for years."

"I know," Tony acknowledged. "I'm just worried about how people will react if they see me. What if they treat me funny? Because of…because of what happened to me?"

"Tony, I can promise you that if any one of them were to see you, they would simply be happy that you are alive, and you are safe," Ducky reassured him. That is all anyone cares about."

Tony looked over at Ducky and smiled, the elderly M.E's words seeming to calm him significantly.

Jethro was glad he'd asked his old friend to come along. Because as much as he loved Tony, and wanted to be there for him at this time, he was too emotionally entangled in what had happened that last fateful night Tony stepped into the bullpen. He worried he wouldn't be able to be there for Tony in the way he usually was. Ducky's presence ensured Tony would get the support he needed.

The three men made their way down the hall and into the bullpen. Tony took a few steps forward, though his hand still held tightly to Jethro's. Eyes becoming wide and teary, Tony stared at the desk that used to belong to Jethro.

"I was standing right here when…I saw you smiling at her. Happy to have her back, even though before she…she didn't want me around. She wanted you to choose."

Tony looked at Jethro, eyes communicating pain and betrayal.

"You chose her."

Jethro felt as though he had been punched in the gut. He hadn't really thought about Ziva's ultimatum at the time. But in retrospect, he could see why Tony felt the way he did. Why had Jethro always acted on his gut? Never taking others into account. Never considering how his choices might hurt them.
Seeing what it had done to Tony, he would never make that mistake again.

"Tony…" Jethro stepped forward to meet Tony, squeezing the younger man's arm. "I didn't 'choose' anyone, and I'm sorry if it feels – "

Jethro felt Tony go limp in his arms; the weight of emotion seeming to overwhelm him physically as well as mentally.

"Tony?" Jethro called gently, as he and Ducky each held an arm to steady him. "Why don't you go have a seat at your old desk? Then we can keep talking. All right?"

"Mmm." Tony nodded as Jethro and Ducky led him over to his former chair and helped ease him down into it.

Tony looked over the items on the desk and cubicle walls, probably feeling a little unsettled at seeing a stranger's belonging at a workspace that used to be his.

He then glanced up at the darkened skylight. At the familiar orange walls.
Surveying the bullpen he used to know so well, his expression became dark and mournful.

"Why did you lie to me?" Tony finally choked out, green eyes looking up to meet Jethro's blue.

Sighing heavily, Jethro brought over the chair from the desk that used to be Tim's and positioned himself so that he was facing Tony. Then, taking Tony by the hands, Jethro locked eyes with him, staring down his guilt and regret.

"Believe it or not, I was trying to protect you. Everyone wanted Ziva back so badly, and I knew that telling you – and telling the team – about Ziva's ultimatum was the only way anyone was gonna let it go. And I didn't want you to feel hurt or embarrassed, so I kept what she said to myself. "

"But you lied to me. And that hurts more!" Tony pointed out tearfully.

Jethro leaned forward, gently wiping away Tony's tears. "I realize that now, and I'm so sorry, Tony. I made a judgment call, and it was the wrong one. But I swear I never meant to hurt you."

Tony studied Jethro's face, as if to verify the older man's sincerity; taking several controlled deep breathes to keep his emotions in check.

"Tony? You all right?" Jethro asked, troubled by the younger man's silence.

Tony nodded thoughtfully. "I'm okay. And I think I understand now. Thank you for explaining it to me. Before, I thought…I thought you lied because you didn't care about me."

Jethro could almost feel his heart sink into his stomach. There it was again. That child like innocence and vulnerability that Jethro suspected would always be a part of Tony, no matter how "big" he ever got.

"C'mere, Tony," he whispered, motioning Tony in for a hug. And as Tony rested his head on the older man's chest, Jethro wondered if Tony would ever truly understand what their relationship had come to mean to him.

"Of course I care about you," Jethro whispered reassuringly into Tony's ear. "More than you will ever know."