A.N.: This is the final chapter of this fanfic, guys! I just want to say that I'm so sorry for all the long waits for chapters. I just hope you think it's worth it. All your support has meant so much to me. I love you all.

It was a dark, cold November night. Tony DiNozzo thought that he was the only one still there. However, he was wrong. As he exited the head, he saw someone sitting at their desk, turning of his computer. What's McGee still doing here?

Tony wasn't an idiot. He'd noticed that ever since Gibbs and Tim had come back from Cleveland, something had been off. But Gibbs had given specific orders not to pry. But still, he could follow him, right? He didn't see why not.

Tim walked out to the parking lot. Okay, where's the Porsche? Much to his surprise, he went to a car that was much more modest Honda. When did this happen? Why did he get a new car?

Tony got into his own car, careful to not let Tim see him. However, it was apparent that he wasn't actually concerned about being tailed. That was highly against McGee's principle. Normally, he always checked to see if he was being followed. But tonight, he didn't seem to care. Where is he going? And why?

Tony followed him further and further away from Silver Springs. Finally, after almost forty-five minutes, Tim stopped. He parked his car and got out. Tony looked around for where he might be going, but there was nothing around. Just a library, a McDonald's, and a cemetery. Much to Tony's surprise, Tim chose the cemetery.

Who's buried there?Not Kate. Not Mike Franks. Then who?

Tony felt badly for following his friend into the cemetery, but his need to know what had been going on was too much. Tim was the last one from the original team Gibbs had created eight years ago. The two of them needed to stick together, no matter what.

Tim walked through the light, crunchy snow. His coat wasn't heavy, but he didn't feel the cold. He already had practically no pain tolerance, but ever since Brogan's death, he felt almost nothing. He only looked at the path in front of him. Not at the names around him. Not at the sky. Not at the graves. He couldn't do that, so he looked at the ground in front of him.

Finally, he reached the spot. He'd placed Brogan at the top of a hill, overlooking the Chesapeake Bay. It was beautiful. Beautiful and depressing. He sat down on the snow.

"Oh, Brogan..." he whispered.

"Who's Brogan, Tim?"

Tim turned to see Tony. His eyes were glassy, full of sympathy and tears. Tony was covered in snow. Tim vaguely wondered how long Tony had been watching him.

"Tim, who was Brogan?" Tim looked into his friend's eyes. All he could see was kindness and compassion. He hadn't told Tony for fear of being mocked. But now he knew that that would not happen. He knew, despite his previous doubts.

"Brogan was a little boy I met while doing some volunteer work at the children's hospital. He had leukemia. I spent time with his family, and when he got terminal... they sent him to Cleveland. His parents died on the way there. I-I was going to adopt him, so he wouldn't be an orphan when he died."

Tony looked into his friend's eyes. He'd had no idea. Never, ever, in a million years, would this have crossed Tony's mind.

"Oh, my god, Tim. I had no idea." Tony sat down next to his partner so that they weren't touching, but could still feel the warmth emanating off of each other. It was odd, not feeling the person, but feeling the energy of them. As Tim numbly thought, waiting for Tony to say something else. When he finally looked at the very special agent, he was twirling his keys on his finger, staring intently at them.

"Tony," Tim finally said after what felt like years of silence, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"Rule number 6," Tony reminded.

"Doesn't apply to family," Tim instantly shot back. The younger agent turned to face his SFA.

"Tony, you're all I've got left. Sarah got a job in Norway, Dad is... well, you know, Penny is always traveling, and I haven't heard from my mom since I graduated MIT."

Though his stone cold face didn't show it, Tony was greatly moved by this.

"I know, buddy," he whispered. Gently, he embraced his best friend in a hug. Time slowed down as Tim did something very new to Tony: he cried. For as much as he teased him about being a girl, never had he seen the younger man cry before this.

He was glad he hadn't. At any other time, he was certain he would not have known what to do. As Tim McGee's miserable howls pierced through the night, Tony thought of something to comfort his closest, longest friend.

"A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain," he sang, "Softly blows over Lullaby Bay."

It was a song from the movie Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. His own mother had used to sing it to him when he was crying.

"It fills the sails of boats that are waiting, waiting to sail your worries away."

Tim was rocking back and forth, sobbing. It was the most pitiful thing Tony had ever seen in his life, but there was nothing he could do. So he held his friend and continued to sing.

"It isn't far to Hushabye Mountain, and your boat waits down by the key. The winds of night, so softly are sighing. Soon they will fly your troubles to sea."

Tim clutched at Tony's jacket, sobbing into his chest. Tony held him tighter. He remembered the grief of losing a family member. When his mom had died, all he'd wanted was the feeling of being strangled. No one would help him. He was decidedly providing for Tim what he himself could never get.

"So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain. Wave goodbye, to cares of the day. And watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain sail far away from Lullaby Bay."

Tim looked up at Tony.

"We're gonna make it through this, Tim. Just like we always do."

"Like always," Tim repeated.

"Come on, buddy. It's cold. Let's warm up and we can talk."

Brogan watched the two men stand up in the cemetery. Smiling, he glanced over at the two women next to him.

"Did Tony do good?" he asked.

Kate smiled.

"He sure did."

The other woman had never spoken before, but always watched the team with intense interest.

"Yes, Brogan," she said as she played with her red hair, "Tony did good. Jethro's team is the best in my agency... I mean, Leon's agency."

"What's your name?" Brogan asked curiously. The red-haired woman smiled.

"Jenny."

A.N.: So, that's the end! Would you tell me what you've thought? This whole story has been an amazing experience for me, and I hope you've enjoyed it too.