|The DA Verse
Author: Ilerre PM
Tony is an Executive Assistant District Attorney. Leroy Jethro Gibbs is his husband.Rated: Fiction T - English - Hurt/Comfort/Angst - Tony D. & Leroy Jethro Gibbs - Chapters: 4 - Words: 11,200 - Reviews: 71 - Favs: 83 - Follows: 163 - Updated: 05-18-12 - Published: 05-13-12 - id: 8113526
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Verse: The DA Verse
Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS.
Word Count: 870
Feedback: Yes, Please
Summary: "It reminds me of this joke; a FBI Agent comes into a bar, meets a Prosecutor…" he trailed off.
Four—The Man Sitting Alone In A Bar
"It reminds me of this joke; a FBI Agent comes into a bar, meets a Prosecutor…" he trailed off.
Tony smirked. "Good one," he nodded, tilting his head back to drink his shot of Whisky in one go. "But don't finish it," he muttered, gesturing the barman for another shot.
Fornell sighed and gestured for the barman to serve him too. "I got a call from Jethro. Asked me to track you down," he pursed his lips in annoyance. "Do I look like a marriage counselor?"
Tony snorted. "More like you need one, because really, marrying Diane? Not one of your finest moment." He shrugged. "And we didn't have a fight. I just lost a case, and I didn't want to bring my bad mood at home."
Fornell chuckled. "Well, Jethro thought he'd done something…again. Was on the phone crying and begging me to get you and bring you home."
Tony laughed softly. "Really? Crying and begging?" he asked, not believing a word the man was saying.
Tobias nodded. "Well, you know him. He was grunting and barking but inside he was pleading me to find his boy."
Tony smiled, pleased. "I didn't mean to scare him. I just—couldn't go back home."
Fornell frowned and drank his glass of whisky. "Want to talk about it?"
The young lawyer shrugged. "Not much to say. And you'll see it printed in the papers tomorrow morning. 'District Attorneys let a child murderer go free. What happened to Justice?'"
Fornell hissed. "Damn."
Tony nodded. "Uh-uh, that's what I said. Especially when said child murderer got out because of technicalities."
The FBI Agent hummed. "Who's at fault?"
The green eyed man tapped the tip of his fingers against his lips. "Well, DCPD mostly. One of the lead investigators was under IA investigation and wasn't allowed to touch the evidence. His partner was a wet behind the ears probie and didn't know how to stand up against his senior partner." He paused and gestured for the barman to fill his glass once more. "It didn't keep in court. Defense attorney pleaded tampered evidence…you know the rest," he finished, drowning his glass once more.
He motioned for another glass but Fornell stood and shook his head at the barman. "That's enough. Come on, I'll take you back home."
Tony nodded and slowly put his coat on feeling like an old man. He made to reach for his briefcase, but Fornell already had it and grabbed his elbow to steer him out of the bar and to his car. They drove in silence for a while before Tony finally spoke. "It's just—the boy was seven. His parents will never see him grow up, graduate, marry…and they'll never trust the police and justice again. They'll live all their lives with the fear of losing their other son to the bastard that killed Eric…knowing he's out there and free to do it all over again."
Fornell sighed. "Maybe he'll get caught next time…"
Tony snorted. "You mean after he killed another little boy?"
Tobias shrugged. "You did all you could. You got blindsided by that cop. He's the one who put you in this position. You should have been told he was under IA's watch. You didn't do anything wrong."
Tony laughed brokenly and traced the clearly visible bruise on his cheek. "You'll tell that to Eric's dad?" he asked. "You'd thank me if I let Emily's killer go free?" he asked rhetorically.
Tobias slowed the car when they arrived at Gibbs's and Tony's house and killed the engine, already spotting Gibbs walking briskly in their direction. He opened Tony's door and helped him walk to the house, grabbing his briefcase and nodding his thanks to Fornell who silently nodded and drove away. No doubt an expensive bottle of bourbon will find its way to his desk in the week to come.
Gibbs helped Tony change into a warm pair of sweatpants and a thick sweater before helping him to bed. Tony immediately curled up on his side and buried his face in the pillow. "'m sorry," he whispered in the darkened room.
Gibbs sighed and lay next to Tony, wrapping him securely in his arms. "You can't do that to me, Tony," he muttered. "I have to know where you are."
Tony nodded against Gibbs's chest and gripped the older man's tee-shirt in a death grip. "I—I just couldn't face you," he whimpered.
Gibbs made a noise at the back of his throat and rubbed Tony's back soothingly. "I know what happened. I heard it on the late news. It's not your fault even if I know you blame yourself. I'm not mad at you."
Tony sobbed. "I couldn't do anything!" he raged in a harsh whisper. "My case fell apart as soon as the Defense talked about the IA investigation. I couldn't do anything! I had nothing to stand on!"
Gibbs rubbed the back of Tony's hair, trailing his finger through silk brown hair and kissed Tony's forehead. "You did everything you could. It's not your fault."
Holding Tony in his arms as he cried all night and only fell asleep at dawn, Gibbs wasn't sure his words were heard or much less believed.