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ditzydisaster13 · 4 months

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Dizzy Decisions for DiNozzo

Each chapter will be formally summarized through a repeat of the title and a series of tags.

Any OCs will be mentioned prior to the story, and my personal comments will look like this:

«Hey», and timeskips will be written " NCISNCISNCIS ", finally summations of the chapter and the actual will be separated by a line like this

the rest of the information for the chapter will be listed below,

[Falling on my 6: NCIS, slight angst, Anthony Dinozzo, Tony, Tony comes out, coming out, kind Palmer, Palmer already knew, NCIS team, team finds out, Gibbs is super chill, scared to come out, about season 5, bi, bisexual character, bisexual Tony, mentions of past relationships, headcanon where Tony likes the secondary colours/ purple is his favorite colour, Ziva is weirdly proud, more]

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Life is like a carousel, where you just go around in circles of the same old thing every day all the while riding on the horse named expectations and just watching the people on the outside who are also waiting and watching. And you can't help but wonder if your stuck on this ride without escape and that this is truely your fate, or it's the actual maddens of life is the park the ride is placed in but your stuck in one place just waiting to walk down those stairs.

Tony Dinozzo often felt this way. Hoping he could change his ticket for a different outcome. But sometimes he's able to recognize that maybe it's him who keeps feeding the damned machine with coins and that he's the problem of his problems. The stem of the plant and the root of the tree. The stupid thing that keeps it turning. Life is a pattern of circles. Dizzying circles. And after last week, he's absolutely ready for a change of at least the horse he views the rest of the park from.

After last week, another messy break up of his love life, which typically consists of one night stands and sec because he apparently has loyalty and commitment issues, Tony was thrown into feelings of sadness. Not exactly depressed, but dissatisfied and disappointed.

Tony had been well aware of his issues when it came to maintaining relationships for a while.

It's not like he wanted to get scared. But his childhood was pretty flippant in regards to loyalty and romance.

Gibbs was aware that Tony wasn't close with his father. Not since the man cheated on his wife, or Tony's mother, and not since his mother died so his scared of loving a younger human being father remarried about 4 times with many girlfriends in between. And half as many dates with the women he married. Always married not long after meeting. And certainly not after his father sent him away to boarding school until high school age. Anthony paid for most of his life anyways. In cash, or with a system of rewards and punishments. Reminders and patterns. He paid, never mattered how, but he paid.

The days following that one event had and have felt more exhausting than the last. Until yesterday. He was somehow over it earlier than usual. Now, that could just be because of his better loyalty to the job; he often worked overtime just so he could be alone in a familiar place, if alone at all. And the others knew he stayed back sometimes. But only Ziva really had a guess as to why he stayed so long. Not that she never teased him for it. But those were elevator conversations anyways.

That morning, he got into work early. Only because he woke up early. He had barely slept. But he woke up around 3 in the morning, after only having fallen asleep at midnight, and felt weirdly refreshed. It took him all of an hour to shower. Shaving and cleansing himself. Breakups left him unkeen towards hygiene. So he was in need of a shave, and one of the haircuts he typically gives himself. He watched it all swirl down the drain.

The shower continued. He had removed all the scruff from his face and then used the small mirror that was suction cupped to the slipper enclosed walls of his shower to snip away at the tallest hairs on his head. Using scissor and comb that were kept in a small cup next to the mirror. Combing upwards before a cut around the sides of his head, and cutting closer to the comb closer to his ears. He had multiple mirrors for a reason; not just because he’s vain, never really was, but also because he needs to see the back of his own head.

Finishing up with washing and scrubbing and removing everything else that made him feel gross, he stepped out of the warm downpour and patted himself dry. The shower was off now, and he needed to pick out his clothes. He quickly dressed in a pair of formal-ish jeans, a purple turtleneck, and a large black jacket that matched his jeans. He whipped out the pair of dark grey converse he had purchased with his formal lover, a sad reminder of some of the fun things he allowed himself to do. Hopefully wearing his favorite colour would help.

Purple typically helped when he was in one of his moods anyways.

Things would go up and down and spin him around and around till he back on the carousel and ready to puke. But today, as he walked into the office, he had a decision to make. He skipped out on breakfast cause he knew he wouldn't be able to stomach the food. Instead opting for a highly caffeinated drink. Just so he wouldn't pass out and piss off Gibbs.

He walked out of the elevator earlier than normal. Having finished his morning routine in a record time, even with some added minutes for extra hair removal, and skipping out on reruns of the movies that were always on in the morning. Somehow, he just knew that getting some work done before even the boss was there, would be helpful. Tony was starting to understand why his boss, Gibbs, practically survived off of coffee.

Tony's stomach was still doing somersaults, and his breathing threatened to hitch. He made it into work just after 4 am. And it was nearing 8am. It was also a Sunday, so they didn't always have work. But when they did, it was case file after case file and forever. Sundays did however allow coming in as late as 9am, and earlier leave at 2pm. As long as there wasn't a case. Tony prayed there wasn't going to be one. Otherwise his whole plan would be ruined.

Gibbs had walked in about five minutes ago without so much as a word to the agent already in the office. Gibbs had his own coffee a couple of inches in front of him as he stared at something on his computer. Tony decided to go back to looking at the screen that was on his own desk. Referring to emails, and past notes he had entered down into the computer. From his brain to the fingers that typed, it was always nice to see the words he thought appearing on a screen in front of him.

He very well might have just stayed in bed. Another day with little sleep and no taking care of himself. But work always managed to inspire him in some of the weirdest ways. Sometimes good, sometimes bad; but typically just weird. He was excited being the first one on Gibbs "golden team" to be in the office. It was bizarrely refreshing.

Ziva walked in next. Tony figured the only person who had possibly beaten him to the NCIS building would've been ducky. That's typically how it works. But the director advised him some extra sleep on Sundays. He wasn't even permitted in the building before 6am. Tony had made his own way into the building before then, thankful the director seemingly hadn't caught onto him just yet. Ziva seemed just barely surprised at the Anthony DiNozzo junior already being sat behind his desk. Tony knew she was genuinely surprised. But she didn't express much emotion anyways.

Tony knew Ziva could tell he hadn't slept behind his desk. They had done it sometimes as a team. And occasionally one would head in early. Or just stay really late. And wake up in the same clothes they technically dressed in the day before. She appeared surprised and confused; Tony thankful for his ability to read faces.

Even Gibbs. Which was an accomplishment in itself. He knew a few things about Gibbs that Gibbs had no idea he even knew. Tony took a chance and made a move to glance over at Gibbs, but his attention was corrected and directed in the general area of the elevator.

Ducky was getting off. Huh. So DiNozzo was right. Damn. His stomach decided to do a double jump when he saw McGee getting off of the lift alongside Dr Mallard. Even following the M.E. and continuing whatever conversation they had going on before. It looked like this time, one, or both, of them was going to speak up about Tony's early arrival.

"Wow, uh, Tony," McGee started with an audible swallow. "You're in early."

"Couldn't sleep provide. So I decided to come into the office." Gibbs seemed to perk up at that. So did Ziva and Ducky. Abby was most likely at the office by now, but in her lab. And Palmer would arrive any minute.

"DiNozzo. How much sleep did you get?"

Started the boss. DiNozzo slumped a little in his seat. He was getting restless. Eying his own coffee, he glanced over the cup at Gibbs, and Gibbs seemed to have noticed the coffee.

"A few hours boss. Nothing terrible." Palmer had popped out of the elevator by now. He gave the group a wave. Tony gave him a smile, but didn't return the wave. Gibbs would be on his ass if he strayed too long.

"Let me rephrase my question. What time did you go to sleep?"

"Midnight. Tony shrugged. That wasn't bad.

He's done it before. And the barely sleep with cases piling up anyways.

Gibbs sighed. "And what time did you wake up?" Abby had appeared out of nowhere, and Tony felt way too many pairs of eyes on him.

"Like- three? I think?"

Why did gibbs care now?

"One more question Tony. How long have you been here?"

"A few hours. I got here like 4. And I've really only left for more coffee or bathroom breaks."

"Damnit DiNozzo! You've been looking like hell all week. Depressed even. And not to mention today was originally scheduled as our day off. " Gibbs gave the impression that he was upset.

And he was. Tony took the chance to chug the last of the coffee he had in his cup. He was on the last few drops when Abby stole it from him. So that was why. He apparently looked bad. Or something. For the whole week. Was he really in that bad of a shape?...

"I'm fine, guys. I just-" Palmer decided to cut into the conversation with a heavy walk and an accusatory point.

"No you're not! You're wearing purple!"

Ziva looked confused. "What does him wearing purple have to do with anything?" Everyone else seemed to have the same question. Jimmy looked almost upset.

"You guys have been friends with Tony longer than I have! So why am I'm the only one who seems to know that his favorite colour is purple?!" He was met with only silence. "Wow.

Okay- um. How many times have you seen him wear purple?" another round of silence, mixed with glances between ziva ducky and McGee.

Gibbs was still staring at Tony. "So not often I'm guessing. Okay, cool. Purple is Tony's favorite colour. And his happy one. Something has recently happened in the past week that has him upset, and depressed even as you say Gibbs, and now he's trying to make himself feel better so he's wearing purple."

Palmer took a breath. The others didn't seem to care all that much so he was gonna try and take up upon himself to not only figure out what was wrong, but also a better way to help his friend.

James looked for any physical sign he could find. He didn't need to make Tony give him a clue just yet. The purple meant that DiNozzo had been upset, likely by an event. Work events don't typically trigger purple. Not unless it has to do with people. Oh no. Jimmy had a guess now. He decided to search Tony's eyes for anything that could tell him he was right. But he begged he was wrong. If the two had broken up-

Anthony seemed to have caught on to what Palmer was thinking. He gave the younger man a nod followed by tapping his middle finger with the index finger of the same hand. A motion the two of them have assigned to betrayal. Specifically by a person. It basically meant they got screwed over. And there was his confirmation. Oh, poor Tony…

Jimmy knew that DiNozzo wasn't out to the team yet. Or most of the team. There were those that teased without looking deeper, and those that might have already guessed. Palmer himself had found out on accident. Jimmy and his current girlfriend had run into DiNozzo on a date in the same restaurant. In a date with a man. Tony seemed sorta scared. But Jimmy just shook the other man's hand who he was a moment later introduced to as Ethan McClyde. He was a decent looking man with a skinny yet broad frame, chunky glasses, an undercut with longer hair on the top, slight bangs, and a new-York accent that Jimmy could tell was fading away. The man had most likely moved states.

Tony seemed shocked at the acceptance from the autopsy gremlin. But he was faced with a look from Jimmy that told him the younger boy already knew. Or already guessed. Anthony prayed he wasn't that obvious. But then again... it takes one to know one.

Tony snapped his neck to once more look at Palmer with a shocked expression. Jimmy gave him some darting eves and a sharp nod. But the smile on his face only remained gentle. Tony figured out the man was in some sort of questioning of his own sexuality. The two of them left with parting words of work and talking later. And they each went back to their own separate dates.

Ever since then, which had been almost a month by now, the two had had a closer friendship, one with less teasing, and more full actual conversations. It was nice. Each of them having a person to talk to about relationships and sexuality. Jimmy recalled the past week had been super quiet on Tony's part. He now understood why.

"Anthony," Dr Mallard broke in, "we should like to help you, but there is no way we can if we do not know what is upsetting you my dear boy." Tony squinted at Jimmy. Ducky seemed aweful calm and Tony was spectating whether Palmer had said anything to the good doctor or not. But the younger man wouldn't go against his trust.

Tony knew that much was true.

"I know.." Tony sighed. "But I also have know idea how to say it. I mean-" he rubbed at his forehead, " I could just come right out and say it- but I'm honestly scared."

"Doesn't matter DiNozzo," Gibbs started.

"We've asked you what's wrong, and I want an answer. It not gonna change much of anything if at all DiNozzo. Now, tell us."

Tony looked over to Jimmy. Jimmy Palmer only shrugged with the short reply "Well, they did ask." The quip ended in a shrug. And a sigh escapes from Tony once again.

He was terrified. He wasn't even sure if he would be welcomed at work anymore. "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" exists for a reason. When he worked for the Baltimore Police, the same rule stood. But it was put way more into effect when he was working with specific military personnel and peoples who protected navy lives. It made the whole secret way more personal. And much more difficult to tell.

His stomach was like a roller coaster doing loops and twisting upside down inside of him. He was sure he wasn't breathing normally and that he was actually not breathing at all. It felt like he was holding his breath anyways. He knew he was probably sweating too. He felt his own eyes looking in every direction besides his team. It was scary. And he had no plan anymore.

He felt like he was ready puke. He was going to choke on his words. And maybe throw up a little too in the process. The nausea crawling up this throat preventing him from even saying anything anyways. It was clear his body didn't wanna come out to the others. He felt screwed. over. His eyes were looking anywhere but his team. He was sure he looked pale by now. Ziva was giving him a disgusted look. He might as well have turned green in her eyes.

It was exhausting being so nervous. But every time he tried to speak he felt dizzy like he was back on that carousel. Around and around in loop after loop after loop. And every time he passed those faces he felt like puking again. He couldn't face his team. Not just yet. He needed to excuse himself. Or he might just have a panic attack. Anthony nearly fell out of his chair when he tried to get up. Jimmy helped him. And also prevented what could have been a nasty concussion from hitting his head on his desk.

It was a nosedive of nerves. A tumble of terror. A falling of fear. An Ariel dive of anxiety and death. Like it was all walking over his back and keeping his chest on the ground. Suffocating and overwhelming to the point he was sure his breathing was erratic and shaky. Maybe he wasn't even breathing.

If he looked up, he was sure to see the worried faces of Timothy McGee, Ziva David, Dr. Donald Mallard, L. Jethro Gibbs, and Abigail Scuito. But Anthony didn't wanna see their worry. Or their pity, their disappointment at his weakness in the fact that all he had to say was he dates men sometimes. Tony took a chance, just a brief glimps of their faces. He hadn't said that out loud. Good. When he was on his way to look back down, he felt his shoulders being shaken. His blurry vision was full of Jimmy Palmer. A refreshing sight at first. But then pooled with worry in those dark brown eyes.

It was now that he was sort of okay with looking at people. They still spun in his vision. And he would still have to walk away so he wouldn't have a panic attack. But he was sure if he asked, that they would give him a moment. He hadn't been this nervous since he came back from boarding school and was living with his father again.

The man had always been ignorant and drunk. But he had gotten worse by the time Tony was eight. Because of the mother's death, the father acted like a dead man. Tony had basically been in charge of keeping himself alive. And it worked that way for years. They never had maids or cooks in their house; so Anthony learned to cook meals for himself and his DiNozzo father.

And he also got pretty good at cleaning. That actually never left. He liked to keep his space clean. Always his bedroom, and then the kitchen of course because you eat in there and the living room where he often fell asleep watching his movies. Everything else was done about once a week, depending on when he was home. He didn't have too many rooms in his apartment anyways.

But a bedroom, a bathroom, a decent sized kitchen, and a living room area in the front. He also had three closets. One at the front where he just hung his coat and shoes. He never used it anyways. One for his vacuum and other cleaning supplies, all piled well and out of the way. It was the smelliest closet one might ever encounter. Then a much larger one in his bedroom where he kept towels and toiletries on the right side as it was next to his bathroom door, and then the side closet to the edge of his bed was for coats and his clothes.

As strange as it was for most, Anthony actually enjoyed cleaning. It made him feel less dirty. He always did his best to keep his desk organized.Couldn’t stand for it any other way. He liked the control cleaning gave him. And sometimes control was all he ever hope for in his life expectations.

Thinking about cleaning helped to calm him down too. He was now much more relaxed. And when he escaped his head a little more, he had taken into recognition that Palmer had carried him away from the group of people likely still at their desks, and they were now behind the stairs that went to MTAC. Tony looked up at the ceiling while he listened to a watered down version of Jimmy's voice tell him stories. Tony escaped his thoughts of cleaning products and vacuuming up stale popcorn from the night before. Jimmy had a calming voice. And they met each others eyes.

"Is everything okay Tony?"

"I'm much better now Autopsy Gremlin." Jimmy smiled at the nickname. "I'm still a tad nauseated, and I'm probably gonna try and fix myself a little in the bathroom. But I feel a lot better. I just had to think about a few other things besides coming out."

"Good. And I want you to know, that I'm pretty sure Dr Mallard already has me figured out, and that he's fine with it. He doesn't care about my sexuality or anything. And Gibbs is probably sceptical. You've said some pretty strange things before. I bet you have no idea how much he's even heard. And I know you're kinda bad and being private with your phone calls, no matter how hard you try so-"

"James." Anthony started. They rarely used first names at work. More or less nicknames or shorter versions of their names anyways. Jimmy had the nerve to look guilty.

"I hope you realize that you're not really helping, dude. I was doing pretty good before all that."

"I'm sorry. I didn't wanna give you any more anxiety. I was just-"

"You were just trying to help. That's okay. I get it. I know what you mean. I think- but like, you're pretty sure I'll be fine and nobody will care. But all the same, it's a scary thing in general. I haven't even come out to my dad. I mean you found out on accident. And it's not like I don't like women, so I was never really lying. I just left out some of my life. I'm just worried that that won't be appreciated, you know?"

Jimmy only shrugged. He did also nod, but it was lighter than usual. So it was clear he didn't completely understand. Jimmy wasn't the type to talk about every single one of his relationships. And he wasn't close with other people like Tony was. He wasn't as social.

Tony sighed into his arms. Curling up in on himself and trying to make himself smaller. As small as possible. Maybe if he shrunk down, he could squeeze out all of the negative and nervous energy. The thing was, for the whole day, that energy had been squeezing him and trying to turn him inside out. So many Tony could right all the wrong he's feeling. A soft whimper hushed past his lips despite him willing it not to. He could still feel it in his throat.

Jimmy turned to look at Tony with concern, placing a gentle hand on the older man's shoulder. "Everything okay?"

"I don't know..."

"You don't know?" Palmer took on a look of great concern.

"I can't stop. I can't stop shaking. Or thinking. I can't stop thinking of Ethan. I miss him. So much."

"And that's okay. Blake and I are still kinda on and off- but I'm pretty sure she's gonna wanna break up soon. I might even just break up with her. Which is gonna hurt. But I know that we each have reasons to stay or split with our partners."

Tony stuttered at what Palmer had just said.

Thinking about his form boyfriend's reason for ending the relationship.

"It's just- damn. Just really frustrating. I feel almost- empty I guess. Like, I didn't just get high. But I got addicted. And now it's not just the person that I'm missing. It's every little thing. The touches and the kissing. I wish I had Ethan back. Just some part of him to breathe in. And maybe that would make me feel better. But it could also just make this all worse. I wish I could just come out and say it. But I don't think that's gonna work. At least the way I planed it. Because I screwed that up. I've got to be a man about this and try again. So I'll try- to try again. I think."

"Are you absolutely sure? I'm sure Gibbs and everyone else will understand if you wanna wait till another day."

"I don't know if you're right about that Jimmy.."

"If it's causing you this much stress, then waiting is always an option. Don't force yourself to do something you're not comfortable with."

Tony only groaned out in response. Pulling his legs away from his chest and sighing. He let his calves touch the carpeted floor beneath him, listening to his own evening breaths.

"You know what? I think I'm ready to go. I think I'm ready to tell them."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I think so. There's a chance I might puke on my own shoes when I've said everything. But otherwise I'll be okay."

"Then let's get you off of the ground Tony. I'm sure the others are worried."

"You're probably right about that Jimbo" Tony said with a look over his shoulder. He had a corner to run back to if he needed it. Staircases and elevators also as easy access. And he had legs to run on if he wanted to run away. He had multiple ways to escape of it all went bad. He supposed his boss wouldn't put a bullet in his foot just for liking men sometimes. But he wouldn't put it past the man.

Tony's brain was practically mud. Not mush. But mud. Thick and slimy watered down remains of the dirt and filth that was pouring and sanding through every nerve in his body. Shivers ran down his spine more than once on the walk back over to his desk. And a few time he had to stop because of nausea and general dizziness. It was a horrible situation to be in. But he dealt with it.

The moment he was standing behind his desk again, Abby was rocking on her heels with something behind her back. Her face donned a shy smile. One that was hopeful and kind. It wasn't as loud and happy as her normal grace, but it was just as bright. Sometimes smiling quietly says so much more about a person's happiness than the amount of teeth they show.

He didn't wanna see the guilt and worry that was probably drawn out all over his face. In his frown and in his eyes. In every downturned wrinkle on his face. A sob lodged its way in Tony's throat at the thought. He hated making people worry for him. Even when sick or injuried it was always someone else before him.

Anthony returned Abby's small smile with a petit curl of the lips of his own. He hoped that the expression would do something to lesson her concerns. A brief glance told him many of the others felt the same way as Abby.

"What d'y'a got Ab's?" Tony said in his best Gibbs impression, trying to lighten the mood.

The second B this time standing for brave, instead of bastard.

Abby smiled a little wider. "I got you a water." But her voice was still soft. Tony took notice of the pigtail buns she wore that day. Long black pants, a long sleeve red shirt with a low collar, and then her platforms and spiked accessories like always.

"Thanks Abby. A lot. And- uh. I'm sorry for worrying you guys. But I've been dealing with something that's been really hard for me lately. I thought I was over it. But I guess not."

"That's perfectly fine Anthony."

"NOT- Not if I planned to explain myself to you guys. Not if that plan was ruined by me being a pissy weak baby. I'm sorry. I think I still need another second." He breathed heavily through his teeth and looked down at his desk. When he looked back up he was met with gentle nods and a small series of thumbs pointed upwards.

Tony turned to look at Palmer, who despite having been in his vision more than once, had not been given a good enough look. Tony enjoyed looking at peoples outfits. Palmer wore a pair of grey running shoes and some loose jeans. Or which were not held up by a belt. The dark grey t-shirt amplified just how casual Jimmy's typical attire really was. Even on double dates and when the two would spend time together; Palmer always dressed comfortably. He even stole one of DiNozzo's hoodies. Tony laughed to himself, and settled down in his seat. He could judge while sitting anyways.

Then there was Ziva. Her hair was slick back, and held behind her ears with a dark pink bandana. Her shirt was also a low cut long sleeve like Ziva's in a hot pink colour. Her shoulders were covered by a cropped tan jean jacket, and her legs were curtained by brown low waist cargo pants. She also had on some soft neutral toned half-boots. She looked nice.

Tony turned his head slightly to get a better view of Dr Mallard. The man was basically the therapist of the makeshift family. A family it crime solvers. Specifically military related crimes. The good doctor was painted in a lovely palette of strong blues with his usual bow tie with a splatter of colours. Ducky's button up was a pale blue, maybe a watery blue, made up of what looked like a thick and comfortable material. His suit jacket and suit pants were the same shade of dark royal blue. The brown belt around his lower waist was the same leather colour. The bow tie was white with almost paint splatters in blue yellow and orange.

Tony had an idea. This would hopefully help him a little too. He began formulating a slideshow, much like they make on cases. He would make it a short one, with a couple photos and definitions. Pulling out his phone and connecting it to his computer, Tony split his attention between the next person's outfit he would be silently judging, and the mix of screens in front of him.

McGee. And Tony's camera roll. Short, dirty-blonde hair paired with watery green-blue eyes. Scrolling through past memories and past dates. A striped brown and tan shirt with a red neck tie. Wavy black hair with slight stubble, brown eyes, and pink lips he can't kiss anymore. A red zip up jacket. The mango-raspberry-kale smoothies that Ethan used to make before his morning runs. Matching brown suit jacket and suit pants, with sleek brown leather shoes. Looking the part of an author mixed with federal agent. And a New York accent that was getting more distant from his ears despite how he wished it wouldn't. Timothée McGee was dressed in warm colours. But all Tony felt was alone and cold.

Tony sighed, finishing gathering the photos of his now dead relationship. It was definitely dead. It's been over a week. And with guys, breakups were always more difficult. From the probably 30 dinners they had had as a couple, 25 of them dates. 20 of the 30 going to a little restaurant Tony had thought they both liked. Maybe it's because the place was always busy. So if they split, like they recently had, then it wouldn't hurt as much going back. Damn it. Ethan had probably planned this. Well, maybe not. But it still hurt.

Tony bit his lip as he dragged and dropped the definition of Bisexual onto the beginning of the slideshow. He even managed to find a colourful flag in his search too. Shrinking it down to the corner so it wasn't as obvious. He quickly inserted. The rest of the images. Breakfasts. Kisses he managed to sneak onto Ethan's cheek or anywhere on his face really. Tony puffed a sigh through his teeth and across his frowning lips.

Tony felt sorta like an alien as he uploaded the slideshow to the flatscreen. Swallowing thickly as he watched the small white bar fill with blue. It was uploaded now. And fully accessible on the tv if anyone knew what he was doing and grabbed the remote. It was like a crowd of people was singing and chanting into his left ear that he shouldn't do this. His right ear blurred waves almost of encouragement. Telling him all the 'ifs' and that he should run in the case things font work out. If he finds himself between a rock and a hard place.

He decided to analyze Gibbs before he forced himself to puke. He was definitely feeling a lot better than before. And at the same time, like he was drowning. It was up to his ears but his ankle was chained to the ground. Oh god...

Gibbs hair looked normal; grey with pepperings of white, and an undercut with a middle part. A white t-shirt showing slightly underneath. A light grey button up on top. With clear buttons all the way down the torso. His pale and watery Blue eyes piercing against the dark midnight blue of his matching suit jacket and pants. His shoes of black leather; just like the belt around his waist.

Gibbs had been assessed. And now Tony was ready for his stomach to flip upside down and then turn inside out. Waiting for it to bounce down into his feet before playing ping-pong with his rinçage before finally lodging it way on his throat. Reminding him he was alive. Reminder of him being almost alone. Even despite the fact that he was surrounded by people. He would have rather been back at boarding school for the moment.

Reminder of him being almost alone. Even despite the fact that he was surrounded by people. He would have rather been back at boarding school for the moment.

It starts in his feet. The nerves. The nerves again. He wishes he could flood it out with a few too many drinks. Forcing himself to sober up with a mad hangover that's causing him to spill his guts into a bowl in some hotel bathroom that he doesn't remember checking into but somehow still seems familiar. And there's a stranger in his bed and an Advil in his cold yet sweaty hand and his eyes look everywhere but still can't see straight. But that's okay because he's still oblivious to what he has to do anyways. But that's okay because if he can't walk or sit or sing, then he'll choke and crawl and cry like the poor pathetic baby that he is. Riddled with anxiety. Riddled and rhymes and rules and why's filling his head like the shivers that tickle his skin with nerves and nausea and an ocean of "what will I do after this goes wrong?' crashing over him in waves that pool and churn and lick up to his chest that's no longer taking in air when all he has to do is breathe.

Breathe. And look up. Breathe, and speak. Spill his guts. Confess. Get it all out. Out of his chest. So it doesn't churn or burn like cigarette smoke; like a chimney of a house, like faded dreams and hopes. So it doesn't wallow and wash him away like a storm where the wind picks him up and throws him around. Because all he has to do is let the name fall off his tongue. Say what his heart says when there's a pretty boy. But the future isn't always so pretty.

It starts in his feet. Then rumbles through his chest. Till it's sifting through his head like a poor man mining for gold. And it's exhausting. Telling himself every possible outcome when the fact stands that he can't even open his eyes and breathe. He can't even look ahead of himself and past his own fear to simply just say what could set him free.

He finally decides to speak to the room. One he doesn't know if it's watching or listening. Or if it even cares.

"I can't really start with an apology. I've been out of it. Whatever. Deal with it. I have a right to behave according to how I feel. We've all been there." a short him was heard from someone in the room. It was a more throaty-hum than a chest-hum. So probably Ziva. "I'm about to explain why.

"If you could please look at the board." Tony clicked on the remote. The first slide showed a rule that was becoming old and outdated. Thankful for that, Tony cleared his throat. "Don't Ask, Don't tell. A saying and a rule by this point. If you're homosexual; leave it out of your job. That is, unless you're asked."

The group looked at Tony expectantly. He was the big brother. The eldest son. "And, you guys asked." Tony stood up from his desk chair and paced towards the flat screen. Not brave enough to look at his teammates yet. "So you're getting an answer. Not an apology. But information. Because I have nothing to apologize for. Besides. Rules 6." The unspoken "never say sorry, it's a sign of weakness' left to hang in the air.

"So. Here's your answer. I'm bisexual. I like boys and girls. Or Men and women should I really say. I love them on my good days, bed them on my bad days, and date them on my best. I'm sure you all remember how rough I felt after the whole ordeal with Jeanne... and maybe that I've been acting like that again lately. Like the whole thing. The whole lovesick part. And then the sick to my stomach part."

Tony paused to sigh as well as to click to the next slide. This time it was a photo Tony had managed to take sneakily. It was a blurry selfie of Tony holding the hand of a man with brown eyes framed in glasses, and wavy black hair styled in an undercut with a middle part. Only slightly longer than Gibbs hair. There was slight stubble on the sides of his face and a distant smile almost etched on his lips. The photo was soft and happy. Even a little romantic. It looked like Tony's partner had been in the middle of telling a story. Probably hadn't caught Tony taking the photo. Yet.

There were decorative rings on his finger. A lion on the one visible pinky, and a green eye on the index finger. Tony was in his usual turtle neck with suit, both in shades of grey along with shoes and a belt in black leather. But the other man wore something more casual. It was easy to tell he had some muscle on him. Lean, but broad shouldered. Like a mix between Palmer and Gibbs. He was wearing a dark grey long sleeve shirt with a vertically striped black and white button up t-shirt on top. Black Jeans were layered plainly under the grey shirt, plus a pair of slightly heeled ankle boots.

They looked adorable. "His name is Ethan. Ethan McClyde. And he was technically mine. Until he wasn't. We broke up around two weeks ago. I know the exact date; but I would rather not remember right now. And the break up happened after we had been dating for a month. I didn't waste time by taking it slow, or holding off on "I love You's" until it was nearly too late. The only problem is, that those three words are still on the tip of my tongue. And I don't have Ethan to say them to anyone."

Abby tapped over. Her platforms barely brushing against the ground as she basically tiptoed with speed over to Tony. Her footsteps soft despite the weight they held. She stood before Tony with open arms. The silent question of whether she could hug Anthony DiNozzo Jr or not ringing faintly. Tony decried he needed a hug. Grabbing her with an arm and pulling the science goth into his side. Palmer took his duty as Tony's best friend and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

It sorta hurt. Seeing all their surprised faces. They didn’t look necessarily homophobic. But like Tony himself was the person they least expected to be any sort of queer.

“Back when Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was pressured more, especially with Gibbs every time I made a damned joke, it made me really scared to tell anyone. But I was also hoping that me making the jokes in the first place would have given you guys some sort of hint. I don’t go on dates. I oversexualize myself because I’m lonely. I tease Ziva and Abby with queer jokes when they hang out because I want them to ask me why I do it. But you only ever seem annoyed.”

Tony sat on his desk, after moving a pencil holder and his mighty-mouse stapler. He had come into work today with almost full confidence. Hoping to sort out whatever he needed to with his friends.

“I dont come into work looking to make you all annoyed with me and hate me. I come in with an attitude that I hope is infectious. A smile I hope spreads. I come I to work prepared with jokes and movie references on the top of my head to relax everyone. But all I get are huffs and sighs. Head slaps and extra work. You guys wonder why you never actually know about my personal life, despite all the falsities I tell you. Well there’s your answer.”

The dirty blonde man with green eyes, lost the brightness in his eyes and picked up his backpack. He was tired. He zipped up the bag and grabbed the one folder he had been given. Pretty much all of it was on his computer anyways.

“Call me if we get a case. Or if you wanna tell me that you’re okay with me being a bisexual.” Tony paused and looked at his boss,” Or maybe to fire me. Otherwise, I wanna be alone.” and he left the building.

……………………………………………………………

This wasn’t exactly the ending I was planning on. But I do have a different story planned that I need to start on. So this is finished without as much as I originally wanted.

Lmk if you want like a second part to the ending.

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