The rain tapped against Ellie Bishop's window, a melancholic rhythm that matched the heaviness in her heart. Breena's death had left a void—an ache that seemed impossible to fill. She sat on her couch, phone in hand, contemplating whether to call Tony DiNozzo.The pandemic had changed everything. Social distancing, isolation—these were the new norms. But grief didn't adhere to rules. It clawed at Ellie, urging her to reach out to someone who understood loss.With trembling fingers, she dialed Tony's number. The line rang, and she wondered if he'd even answer. But then his voice crackled through the receiver."DiNozzo.""Tony," Ellie's voice wavered. "It's Ellie. Breena... she's gone."Silence stretched across the line. Ellie imagined Tony's furrowed brow, the way he'd lean back in his chair, processing the news. They hadn't spoken in years, but grief had a way of erasing distances."Damn," Tony finally said. "I'm sorry, Ellie.""I need to see Jimmy," Ellie confessed. "He's hurting, Tony. And I can't be there for him. Not like this."Tony's sigh echoed through the phone. "You're not alone in this, Ellie. I'll be on the next flight to D.C.""But the pandemic—" Ellie protested."Rules be damned," Tony interrupted. "Jimmy's family. And so are you."The airport was eerily empty. Tony wore a mask, gloves—the necessary armor against an invisible enemy. But his eyes held determination. He'd faced worse—terrorists, traitors, heartbreak. This was just another battle.Jimmy Palmer stood outside the hospital; eyes red-rimmed. His grief was palpable, a storm that threatened to consume him. Tony approached, keeping a safe distance."Jimmy," he said softly. "I'm here."Jimmy's gaze met Tony's. "Why risk it?""Because some battles can't wait," Tony replied. "And you're not alone."They stood there, three broken souls—Ellie, Jimmy, and Tony. The pandemic raged outside, but inside the hospital room, they grappled with their own demons.Breena's funeral was a quiet affair. Only a handful of mourners gathered, spaced apart. Ellie clung to Jimmy's arm, tears streaming down her face. Tony stood nearby, a silent sentinel.After the service, they retreated to Ellie's apartment. The rain had stopped, leaving the air fresh, cleansed. Tony poured whiskey into three glasses."To Breena," he said, raising his glass. "A force of nature."They clinked glasses, memories flooding back—late nights at NCIS, laughter, camaraderie. Brena had been part of their dysfunctional family."Tony," Ellie whispered, "why did you come?"He met her gaze. "Because sometimes, even in a pandemic, we need each other. We leave stories behind, Ellie. But we also leave people. Breena touched our lives, and we'll remember her."Jimmy's voice trembled. "Thank you, Tony."Tony smiled. "We're all in this together."And as they sat there, sharing stories, the pandemic seemed distant—a mere footnote in their grief. They were survivors, bound by loss, reaching out across the chasm of isolation.
