Work Text:
title: one shot one kill
author: iniq
pairing: gibbs/dinozzo
rating: pg
warnings: subtle
notes: not connected to any episode
one shot one kill
Tony hadn't shot to kill. He usually didn't, unless there was no choice. And even though there had not really been a choice here, he hadn't aimed to kill, simply because it was a kid and he hadn't really believed the boy knew what he was doing. Tony had had his sight on that small arm and yet the kid had turned at the wrong moment, startled by something. And he'd killed the boy. He hadn't meant to.
And while he'd shot, or maybe when the shot had sounded, or maybe when the bullet had hit its target, he had heard Gibbs yell, "No!", and that hurt more than anything else. He could have dealt with the people on the scene running toward the boy, staunching the blood flow coming from his shoulder, trying to stop the bullet from moving through the arteries to the kid's heart, but watching his lover stand there, looking at the shot boy with shock and surprise written on his face was too much.
But what was he supposed to have done? The kid had aimed to shoot Gibbs - had aimed to kill his lover. He'd had to shoot. He wasn't sorry. Tony couldn't regret shooting when he had, because a moment later the boy would have pulled the trigger and he'd be bemoaning the death of his partner instead of the death of a life he didn't know.
Tony knew about Shannon and Kelly - he'd seen pictures of them. There weren't any around the house, but Gibbs had a shoebox full of memories of his daughter and his first wife. They were pictures of a happy family, smiling faces on all pictures; so unlike the faces on the pictures Tony had of his family. He loved looking at them. He loved imagining Gibbs so happy and carefree. It didn't even hurt that, if Gibbs were still so happy and carefree, the two of them wouldn't be together. It just hurt that he didn't have any happy pictures of Gibbs and him together. They didn't know anyone outside of work who would take pictures of them.
That knowledge about Kelly made the fact that he'd shot a child in front of Gibbs even worse. He knew that Gibbs had survived his daughter, had somehow survived his daughter's death and had come out sane. And then Tony came and did it again.
He sat on the couch, clutching a picture of Kelly he'd taken out of Gibbs' box to his chest, apologizing to her over and over again. He'd hurt her daddy. Burning with the need to tune out the anger inside him, he grabbed the beer bottle and took another long swig. Gibbs was still at the office and Tony wondered when his lover would come home - and if they would talk tonight. Being suspended until he was cleared pulled at his already frayed nerves. He had nothing to do, nowhere to go, and no one to talk to. He called it gardening leave - as if it was clear that this was the end. So he had sat on the porch in the afternoon and made a list of plants he would need to redo the garden. He didn't really want to landscape at the moment - but he'd do anything to get his mind off that dead boy and his lover's expression.
When Gibbs came home that night, Tony was already in bed. He'd cleaned up in the kitchen and had gone to bed when not even the TV could hold his dark thoughts at bay anymore. He didn't hear Gibbs coming in and the next thing he was aware of was the alarm clock waking his lover in time for his usual morning run. They hadn't talked since the day before. Tony pretended to sleep through the alarm and forced himself not to react when Gibbs kissed the nape of his neck before getting up. When Gibbs was gone, he buried his face in the pillow and squeezed his eyes shut.
Looking into the mirror, Tony decided something was wrong. He looked less vibrant, less like the man he was used to seeing in the mirror and more like someone else - someone who hadn't gotten a lot of sleep in the past few nights, someone who wasn't all there. He looked away and stepped into the shower. And as he stood under the hot spray, he cried. Something was wrong and he didn't know what it was.
Gibbs came home late again. This time Tony stayed awake long enough to hear his lover shuffle up the stairs and through the hallway toward the bedroom. He took in a rattling breath and forced himself to lie still. When Gibbs pushed the door open, Tony closed his eyes. He could feel Gibbs standing in the doorway, hesitating. He would hesitate too, if his lover had reopened old wounds like that; or maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'd leave and never look back. He was known to run. Under the sheets, he clenched his hands to fists to keep them from shaking. Gibbs disappeared into the bathroom and came back a few minutes later, switched the lights off and cast the back of Tony's eyelids into darkness. Then, Gibbs padded toward the bed and sat down. He pulled his watch off with a click and a light rattling and pushed the button on the alarm clock that would wake him up the next morning. He pulled the sheets back and lay down, turning to his right side and toward Tony immediately and reached out for the gap between the pillows. To Tony's surprise, the hand didn't stop there but fumbled for his shoulder and then rested on his upper arm, lightly kneading and stroking the muscle. He held his breath for a moment.
The next morning, Tony didn't really wake up when the alarm clock sounded. He felt the kiss pressed to his nape and wished he knew why Gibbs still did that when the chasm growing between them was so obvious. They hadn't talked yet and slowly but surely Tony thought they wouldn't ever. He wanted to kiss back and apologize, but he couldn't even find enough energy to turn over and greet his lover with a proper 'good morning'. So he kept his eyes closed and waited until Gibbs was gone before he turned over and pressed his face into his lover's cooling pillow.
Gardening went well. He'd gone into the basement and unearthed all the gardening tools Gibbs had and started in on the backyard. He trimmed down bushes and cleaned up until he was ready to drop from exhaustion. He would have gone on, but his cell phone rang, calling him away from his work to the porch. It was someone who wanted to know why he had shot a kid and whether he felt guilty. He didn't pick up the phone anymore after that. Instead he went upstairs and into the shower and back into bed where he determined that he shouldn't have gotten up that morning.
Gibbs didn't say anything when he came home on time for once that night and didn't even find dinner waiting for him. He didn't complain that Tony had left his dirty laundry in the bathroom, or that he hadn't done any chores in the past few days. He just rested a hand on Tony's shoulder for a moment and went downstairs to his boat. And before he came back upstairs into bed that night, Tony was already asleep again. He missed the long look Gibbs sent his way and the sigh coming from his lips - he was already back in his land of nightmares where he didn't shoot in time and the boy killed his lover.
He got cleared soon enough. The witnesses' reports, the bullet, the angle, everything came together to form the picture that Tony had shot to wound, but not to kill. That it wasn't anger or carelessness that led him to kill the boy, but bad luck. He was to come back to the office after the weekend. Gibbs gave him the envelope saying so at dinner. Tony had made toast for Gibbs, and had gotten a beer for himself. He looked away when Gibbs swiped up the remaining spot of ketchup with his forefinger, and got up when Gibbs looked like he wanted to talk.
Gibbs woke him that night and spared him the ending of yet another gruesome nightmare. He pulled Tony into strong arms and held him until he thought he would suffocate. He pressed his mouth shut and thought of apologies. He squeezed his eyes shut and hoped the tears wouldn't leak through.
He woke in an empty bed the next morning. Gibbs had gone for his morning run and Tony hadn't even had the energy to wake up with the alarm clock. He got up and went into the bathroom, where his mirror image told him again that something was wrong. Stroking over his cheek, he realized he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. He shut the light off and showered in the dark before he dressed in one of his lover's t-shirts and went out back to work on the vegetable garden.
Around noon, Tony went back to the house to get a drink and sat down on the porch to survey his work. He didn't notice how long he had been sitting there until he was jerked from his thoughts by the feel of drops hitting his hands and he realized it was starting to rain. He turned to go inside, but was surprised to see Gibbs standing behind him with an odd look in his face. He apologized then, mumbled something about gardening leave or maybe about rain and got up to go inside. Gibbs shushed him and wrapped strong arms around him - and when a wet spot grew on Gibbs' shoulder, Tony realized it wasn't raining at all.
+