It was like a bad joke that started, ‘This NCIS Agent walked into a bar...’

A seedy bar at that. It wasn’t a place where Navy, Marine, cop, or any other kind of law enforcement hung out. It wasn’t even a place where anyone retired from those professions hung out. It just was a regular, old, badly lit, badly run, bar that smelled of cigarettes, beer, and other fluids really shouldn’t be dwelled on. Jethro was pretty sure they’d been using the same vat of grease to fry the food there since he’d been coming, and that was a few years now.

Sidling up to the counter, he sat on one of the rickety stools and caught Arnold’s eye. The old guy looked like he hadn’t moved from his spot behind the bar since the last time Jethro had been there, which was a couple of months ago. The rounded, scruffy-faced man nodded once and poured a beer from the tap, as well as a shot of whiskey. Jethro downed the latter first, and then polished off a good portion of the beer in two gulps. He was already motioning for a second round before the glass hit the scratched up countertop.

Arnold set the replacements down in front of him, then said, “Thought you had someone to go home to now.”

Finishing off his beer and throwing back the second shot with far too much ease, Jethro answered, “I do.”

“So why aren’t you there?” Arnold questioned, refilling the shot without being asked.

Jethro took a breath, waiting for the heat from the second shot to disperse. “Because I can’t be there right now.”

He needs me too much.

Arnold shrugged and observed, “I’m not going to complain about taking your money, not when you’re on a tear. Should I just leave the bottle?”

It was tempting, but he had a funeral in the morning. Shaking his head, Jethro tossed back the third shot and set it down hard enough to crack the tiny glass. “Sorry.”

“I’ll put it on your tab.”

Jethro snorted, but nodded.

“I thought you were dead.”

Looking over at the familiar, slurred voice, Jethro found Gary pointing an accusing finger his way.

Arnold defended, “Hey, the man got a life for a couple of months, give him a break. He ain’t your personal entertainment unit y’know.”

It was amazing how alcohol gave everyone the same accent. Snorting at the thought, Jethro said, “I wouldn’t call it a life.”

“You had somewhere to go, someone to be with, that’s a fuckin’ life,” Arnold stated, pouring himself a beer.

Gary chimed in, “Y’look like crap.”

Jethro raised his glass over at Gary. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, pal,” Gary answered, raising his own glass, spilling a little of the amber when it shook. “Anytime.”

After tipping his own glass back for a long draught, Arnold said, “Had a wife once. Little girl, too.”

“Oh yeah? What happened?” Gary asked.

Arnold shrugged. “Thought other things were more important. I was a fuckin’ shmuck. You take my advice, Jay, you go back to that warm body and make sure nothing gets more important.”

Jethro downed the rest of his first beer, then started in on the second. It would take a lot more than that to get him drunk, but he was feeling more relaxed than when he’d walked through the door. A bunch of college kids came pouring in, breaking the calm depression that seemed permanently settled over the bar with loud words, rude gestures, and too many girls. Jethro watched them, so damn young and so full of life that it hurt. Tony had been like that. Tony had been cocky and brash and full of shit. Now he was quiet and withdrawn, looking at Jethro with hollow eyes demanding that he fix what couldn’t be fixed.

Ducky had advised that he go home and not let Tony out of bed until the funeral, then do the same for a week thereafter. Reaffirm life, was how the older man had put it. Share the grief, share the load, just as McGee and Abby were doing. When Jethro had asked how Ducky was handling things, his friend had just given him a sad smile and reminded him that he had an elderly mother who needed a great deal of attention. And for those times that she didn’t, there was always a nice tumbler of Scotch and the Tragedies to read, both in Greek and English.

Except that Jethro hadn’t been able to go home and face Tony yet, not since they’d taken Kate’s lifeless body down from the roof and Tony had finally allowed himself to throw up, well outside the confines of the crime scene.

“Really, Jay, you look like shit,” Gary slurred, surprising him by actually leaving his stool to sit beside him. “What happened?”

Arnold interrupted sharply, “The man doesn’t want to talk about it, Gary. Let it go.”

“Na, na, can’t do that. Can’t have a buddy squirming like a worm on a hook,” Gary protested. “S’what buddies are for. Did she dump ya? Lose your job? What?”

“Someone I know died,” Jethro said, then corrected himself, “Was killed. Murdered.”

Can’t you see the blood on me? It’s not like I can wash it off.

Gaping at him like a fish, Gary didn’t say anything except a long, drawn out, “Daaaamn.”

Arnold glared at the drunk, but only poured another shot for Jethro.

“Thanks,” Jethro said, tossing the shot back.

“No problem. God damn it get off the fuckin’ table! Jesus Christ!”

The latter, of course, being yelled at two of the college girls. Jethro grinned darkly as he watched Arnold storm over to break up the impromptu dance contest. He forced himself to stay relaxed and lounging at the bar, not to stiffen and react to the way one of the college kids crowded Arnold. It wasn’t his thing, here. He could be a selfish shit just like every other man in the bar and let the bartender do his job without any help.

Not that it matter anyhow, because the big man wasn’t having any of it from the kid. He knocked the kid right into the wall, head first, and yelled at all of them to get the fuck out of his bar. Turning back to his beer, Jethro finished it and tugged the second one close. Definitely getting relaxed now. Maybe another shot would do the trick after all. He wouldn’t be drunk, not enough for a hangover at least.

Staring into the amber liquid, hoping to find the answers to, ‘Why the fuck kate?’ and ‘What do I do about Tony?’ somewhere in the mix of foam and bubbles, Jethro was surprised when a plate of potato skins and onion rings landed in front of him. Looking up at Arnold, he asked mildly, “Trying to kill me now?”

“Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m trying to do,” Arnold agreed, lips quirking. “What time’s the funeral?”

Jethro grimaced, even as he started eating the onion rings. “Ten.”

“I’ll call you a cab while you soak up some of the booze with that crap.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again without speaking. Not that Arnold would listen to him anyhow.

“Hey uh, sorry about your friend,” Gary said finally, jaw snapping shut on what had to be the longest lag time ever.

Jethro offered a faint smile. “Thanks.”

Gary nodded and stumbled back to his own stool.

Finishing off his beer, Jethro looked longingly at the empty, cracked shot glass. When Arnold came back, he asked, “One more for the road?”

“Yeah sure,” Arnold agreed, pouring a shot in a new glass.

Jethro tossed it back and closed his eyes to relish the burn. A horn honked just a few seconds later and he opened them again in surprise. “That was fast.”

Arnold shrugged. “I’ve got that number on speed dial, what can I say?”

“Yeah, I guess you would,” Jethro agreed, flashing him a dark grin and giving Gary a wave goodbye. “Thanks, guys. I’ll see you later. Probably tomorrow night.”

Jethro heard Arnold mutter, “Doubt that,” as he walked to the front door and frowned. Shaking off the comment, he pushed through the ancient door and walked outside only to stop in shock at finding Tony’s rental car directly in front.

Leaning on the hood, Tony observed dryly, “And you complain about the dives I go to.”

“What, how did, what?” Jethro demanded angrily.

Tony’s lips twisted into an unreasonable facsimile of a grin and he said, “In some parallel world, that was an understandable question. C’mon, Boss, I thought Marines could handle their liquor?”

“God damn it, DiNozzo, what the fuck are you doing here?” Jethro finally managed to get out. “Did you follow me?”

Shaking his head, Tony informed him, “Arnold and I go way back to the first time you came here and got so drunk you couldn’t find your car keys. How do you think you got home that night and all the nights after that? You’re amazing navigational skills? Not.”

Confused enough that his head hurt, Jethro said, “That was almost three years ago, Tony, way the hell before we got together.”

“Well, when you go through the fires of hell as often as we do, it’s good to know where your friends go to dust off the ashes,” Tony replied, ironic. “Are you coming home, or not? Because a cab ride from here is going to cost a fortune and I know how much you love spending money.”

When Tony walked around the car and got in the driver’s side, Jethro sighed and gave in. He glanced back at the bar and found Arnold looking out the front door. There was a bittersweet expression in place and Jethro didn’t quite understand the nod the other man gave his way before going back inside. Getting in the car, he closed the door and fumbled with the seatbelt until Tony took it from him and carefully buckled it for him. 

Combing his fingers through Jethro’s hair to hold the back of his head, Tony whispered, “You don’t have to take care of everything and everyone, you know. I’m a big boy now. I have a license and everything.”

“Tony, I...” Jethro’s voice trailed off, not really knowing what to say.

Tony gave him a brief smile and kissed him gently. “It’s okay. Come on, let’s go home.”

As they drove away, Jethro thought he understood what Arnold had said with that nod. He did have a place to go to, someone to be with, a choice of where to be, unlike the rest of the men in that bar. Taking Tony’s hand in his, Jethro held on to it like a lifeline, not wanting to end up alone the way those men were.

Not even glancing over at him, Tony pulled their hands up to kiss the back of Jethro’s, silently answering the unspoken plea, then settled both hands on his thigh, not letting go.

Breathing a deep sigh of relief, Jethro tilted his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. Tony would get him home safely; apparently, he’d been doing it for a long time.