Team Gibbs
They'd had a bad week. The case had been worse than most others. There was a murderer out there who enjoyed kidnapping, torturing and killing the children of navy officers. It was hard on everyone, but it was especially hard on Gibbs. The older marine was in a bad mood. And Tony was the lucky receiver. Gibbs had just torn the younger man a new one and that was why he found himself down in Abby's lab.
"I'll go clubbing tonight. I'd ask you to come with me, but -"
"Not really my choice of music, Abby." He said tiredly.
"Yeah." The Goth hugged her stuffed hippo close and it let out a fart.
"And besides. I haven't done any clubbing in... four years. Geez, four years! I haven't even gotten wasted in that time." Tony exclaimed. "I'm gonna get wasted this weekend. I'm not gonna sleep. I'm just gonna get wasted and then pass out on Sunday and then I'm gonna wake up on Monday and hopefully things have calmed down by then."
He really didn't like his boss yelling at him all the time. Especially if he was being insulted. The young Italian gave his friend a kiss on the cheek. "See ya on Monday, Abbs, have fun!"
"You, too, Tony. Don't drink too much." She called after him, her eyes full of concern.
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He had just finished reading his agents' reports and signing them, when he noticed his favorite lab tech bouncing towards his desk.
"Something I can help you with, Abbs?" He asked.
"It's Tony." She started.
"What has he done now?" Came the annoyed question.
The Goth glared at him. "He didn't do anything, Gibbs! Why are you being so mean to him?"
"DiNozzo come whining to you about something? Tell him to come to me if he has a problem with the way I handle my agents."
"Gibbs, that's just cruel. And you know that Tony'd never complain about that. He just let's you treat him like shit without saying anything.
"There a point?" He growled.
"Thing is, he said some things to me and I'm worried about him."
Gibbs sighed. He knew that DiNozzo could be one hell of a drama queen. "And what was that?"
"He told me that he hadn't been wasted once in the past four years."
"I call that growing up. It's about damn time."
"In fact he hasn't been clubbing in the past four years." Abby continued as though her boss hadn't said anything. "No fun. No social life in the past four years. Do you remember what happened four years ago?" She didn't wait for a reply. "You quit and let us down. And then you came back after being tired of Mexico. You never acknowledged his good work."
Gibbs opened his mouth to protest, but the Goth cut him off. "I don't care if you quit or retired, Gibbs. You disappointed him. And you'd never done that before. And then you just continued treating him like shit. Tony's like a kicked puppy. He's always coming back, but if you kick him one too many times, he'll run."
"Why are you telling me all that?" He asked finally.
"Tony said something about getting wasted all weekend long and passing out. I don't like that, Gibbs. I don't want him to get into trouble or getting hurt."
The ex-marine didn't like that either. "Did he say where he was going?"
"No. I guess his usual clubs." Abby replied.
He handed her paper and pen. "Write them down." She did as she was told. "And now go home."
"But I wanted to go out!" She protested.
"Abby, we've been having a tough week. Take it easy, okay?"
"But just because you asked nicely." She replied and hugged him.
Gibbs pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Good girl."
"Promise you'll take good care of Tony?"
"I promise."
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Tony hadn't been to 18th Street Lounge in a long time. He was glad to be back, as soon as he felt the familiar beat running through his body. He couldn't help feeling a little misplaced now though. Everyone in there seemed so young. Tony was by no means old, but somehow he felt old.
Well, nothing a little alcohol couldn't fix. So he ordered shot after shot and he was feeling every single drop of the liquid as it warmed his body.
"Oh, don't you look stressed. Want to dance, cutie?" He heard a woman say in his ear. If he played his cards right, he might even get laid. That didn't sound half bad to him, so Tony gladly accepted.
Gibbs had, unsuccessfully, tried to spot his senior field agent in one of the clubs on the piece of paper. It was just too damn crowded. He'd have to call McGee after all.
"Hello?"
"McGee, trace DiNozzo's cell."
"Boss, that you?"
"No, McGee, I'm the goddamned tooth fairy!" He barked.
"Uh... I'm on it, Boss." The young man replied and Gibbs heard some typing. A few moments later, the ex-marine had received the information he needed. "Good job, McGee." It were three simple words. How come he was unable to tell them Tony? "And now stop playing that online thingy and get some sleep, Elflord." He said and hung up, before starting his car and driving off.
Once he got to his destination he jumped out of the vehicle. He was shocked at what he was seeing.
"You didn't have that much to drink! What's wrong with you?" The woman asked the man kneeling on the ground, puking his guts out.
"You're a wh-"
"Don't you have someplace else to be?" Gibbs growled.
"What the hell do you want -" She turned and broke off. "Uh, you're his dad, huh?"
The senior agent didn't even try to set her straight. He didn't want to.
"Uh... poor boy." She mumbled and left.
The ex-marine crouched down next to his agent and put a hand on his back. "Tony?" He asked gently.
All he got in response was more puking. He waited until it turned into dry heaving. "Alright, Tony, let's get you home." He helped his agent to his feet and cursed when the young man had them stumbling into the brick wall. Gibbs took one of Tony's arms and placed it around his shoulder. With his free arm around the young man's waist, he half carried, half dragged the kid to his Charger and buckled him in, before getting into the car himself. "You better tell me if you get sick." Gibbs said, before getting the vehicle in motion.
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Tony dozed off on the ride to Gibbs' house. Though it was more of a comatose state than a nap. The ex-marine parked his car in the usual spot and then he got out and walked around to the other side. He opened the door and unbuckled the unconscious man.
"Tony." He called out, but got no reaction. "Tony." Gibbs slapped the younger man's cheek lightly.
"Huh?" He slurred.
"We're here. Get outta the car."
"Uh..."
The older man wanted to slap him, but he knew that his second in command would probably not remember anything.
"Tony, I want you to help me get you out of the car and into the house. Can you do that?"
"'m... on't." Came the reply, before Gibbs had his arms full of DiNozzo. He shook his head and managed to get his agent into the house and up the stairs without any bigger incident. Tony fell onto the mattress, face down.
"Hey!" Gibbs barked, slapping his shoulder, before turning him on his back.
The younger man opened one eye and a hand with two white pills entered his vision. "Take them and drink the whole glass." The silver haired man helped him sit up and take the medicine. Then without another word, he started working on Tony's clothes. He unbuttoned the designer shirt and slid it off the agent's shoulders. Then he stripped off the rest of the clothes, leaving the Italian in his boxer shorts. He pulled the covers up the prone body and sighed. "There's a trash can right next to the bed, in case you get sick."
Tony didn't seem very conscious, so Gibbs let his hand stroke through the soft brown hair, before heading off towards his own bed.
It had been a hard week.
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He woke up and the first thing he noticed was the pounding in his head. He hoped it was Monday already. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at a ceiling that was clearly not his.
"Shit." He cursed as conclusion dawned. "Oh, fuck."
He started looking for his clothes, silently praying that he could leave without running into his boss. He turned and saw the clothes lying on the chair, but his stomach dropped when he saw the sweatpants and an NIS shirt.
Tony got dressed and slowly made his way down the stairs. He saw his boss leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping on a cup of coffee. "Uh... hey, Boss. Sorry about... invading your guest bed room... I'm gonna head home, where are my clothes?"
The ex-marine just looked at him for a full 60 seconds. "Get your ass over here." The Italian obeyed, as always, and sat down on a chair. "How's the head?"
"Still there." That got him a glare. "Pounding." Gibbs produced two more pills. "Ah... no, thanks, Boss. You know I'm no big fan of -" The ex-marine glared at him. "Taking the pills, right."
The older man waited until his agent had swallowed the pills. "Want to tell me what that was all about?"
"Where are my clothes?"
"You're not going anywhere."
Who did Gibbs think he was? Tony was not a kid anymore and the fact that the senior agent thought he could order him around even when off the clock angered him more than ever. "Where are my clothes?" He asked again.
"In the dryer, but you're still not going anywhere, DiNozzo." Gibbs added when Tony retrieved his now clean clothes from the machine.
The young man whirled around. "Who the hell do you think you are?"
The ex-marine was in his face in a matter of seconds. "Something you wanna say, DiNozzo?"
"Fuck off, Gibbs."
"Careful." He warned. "I'm still your boss."
Tony took his NCIS ID out of his wallet and threw it at Gibbs. "You're nothing to me." Then he turned around and began walking away. "You'll have my badge by tomorrow morning.
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The Italian had to take a cab home, since his car was still at the club. He'd get it later. He flopped down onto the couch with a deep groan. He hadn't meant to take things that far. He had never meant to resign. But enough was enough. Gibbs had treated him badly without even thinking about the way it made Tony feel.
The older man had always given him a hard, but Tony had refused to care, because after all, it was Gibbs who had chosen him to work on his team at NCIS. But the way he had left and the way he had come back... and now that, it was enough. But still, giving up his beloved job wasn't what he'd planned. That sucked big time.
He'd have to move again. After 9 years of working at NCIS. Working with Gibbs and Abby and Ducky. 9 Years in his apartment. And none of that mattered anymore, because he had resigned and he would leave DC with plague scarred lungs, a severe concussed head and the feeling of not ever going to be good enough for the one man he craved approval from most. Gibbs.
Life sure sucked. He had no idea where to go. Because fact was, he didn't want to leave. But maybe it was time. There was a reason he'd changed PD's every two years. Why did he always have to screw things up? He looked at the pillow lying to his left. Team Gibbs. That's what it read. Abby had given each of them one for Christmas last year, together with a shirt and a ball point pen.
He was proud to be on Team Gibbs. But he'd screwed up. Royally. Tony stood up and stomped into his bedroom. He realized that he was still holding that stupid pillow and so he threw it on the bed. Then he turned to his closet and started to angrily throw all his clothes out of it and onto the bed as well.
"Going somewhere?"
The young man spun around and glared at the ex-marine. Those intense blue eyes bored into his own hazel orbs.
"Leave me alone."
"No. I won't let you throw your life away like that."
"9 years! 9 goddamned years, Gibbs! I've been following you blindly, I've been taking this crap from you every single day and I never get a 'good job, Tony'. 9 fucking years and I get a fuckin' 'you'll do' when you decide you're sick of all this? I know I'll never be good enough for you, you've been crystal clear with the way you treated me!" His head was red from yelling.
"Is that what you think?"
"Jesus, Gibbs, I'm fucking sick of those mind games of yours!" He crossed him arms in front of his chest, scared of trying to pummel Gibbs to the floor. The man could, after all, still kick his ass.
"You want to know what I think? I think you're a damn good agent. In fact the best agent I've ever worked with. After that explosion..." Tony had never seen Gibbs search for words. "My head wasn't screwed on right. Even after I came back things were still fuzzy. You kept the team going. Just as I've always known you would. The way I treat you... Always expecting the best, pushing you to your limits... it's how I'd treat my own son."
That confession made the Italian look at his boss and his heart started pounding faster.
"I'm sorry for Mexico... and I want to thank you for being the glue that kept the team together."
They were silent for a few moments.
"Wow... an apology and a thank you... is it my birthday?"
"I don't wanna lose you, Tony. Neither as my agent nor as a part of my family."
"You know, you're actually pretty good with words."
Gibbs waited until their eyes were locked again. "I'm sorry."
Tony nodded. "I really don't wanna leave DC."
"Then stay."
"Well... since you need me and all."
"We do. I do." Tony's cheeks flushed at Gibbs' words. The ex-marine offered him his NCIS ID back and the younger man gladly took it. "We're good?"
"Yeah... what about a hug?" Gibbs snorted. "You wouldn't hug your son?" The Italian asked cheekily and then turned back to the mess on his bed.
Suddenly something fluffy hit him in the back of his head. Then he realized that the older man had hit him with the Team Gibbs pillow. Tony laughed and shook his head.
"You better clean this up."
"Uh..."
"I'm gonna order some pizza." Gibbs suggested.
"I love you, Boss."
The older man pulled him into his side and placed a quick kiss into the mop of brown hair. "I know. And the feeling's mutual."
Tony watched as his boss walked back into the living room and then he started to clean up. He was almost finished when a grin spread over his lips. There on his bed, was the probably most reassuring item ever. He was part of a family. A great family.
"Tony! Pizza's here!"
"Coming, Boss." Came the reply.
And there on his bed was the pillow.
Team Gibbs.