AN: This is a one-shot which follows after "Tony's Tears." I do apologize for neglecting my other stories while I wrote this one and appreciate your patience. I'll be able to get back to them now and hopefully more regular updates. Thanks so much for reading.

xxxxx

Gibbs stared across the bullpen at his senior field agent with concern evident in his eyes. It wasn't that he could find fault with the way Tony was performing his job. It was just the opposite, in fact. Since returning to work after the death of his father, he'd done his job well, exceptionally so. He was just quieter and much more serious. Gibbs supposed it was to be expected. Tony's relationship with his father hadn't been the best. He knew the younger man had always hoped to resolve things, but now would never get that chance. Senior had died suddenly, the victim of a heart attack. Tony hadn't even gotten to say goodbye. Gibbs had accompanied him to the funeral and had gotten him to release some of his pent up emotions afterwards, but it was obvious he still had some recovering to do.

Today, Tony had been especially quiet and had only spoken if it was case-related or if someone addressed him directly. It was beginning to get to Gibbs and the uneasy looks McGee kept throwing in DiNozzo's direction had not gone unnoticed either. Ziva had the day off or she might have already confronted him by now. "DiNozzo," Gibbs called as he got up from his desk and approached him. Tony appeared lost in thought and did not respond. "DiNozzo!" Gibbs stood directly in front of Tony's desk now and finally his agent looked up at him questioningly. "With me," Gibbs said, gesturing with his hand for Tony to follow him as he headed toward the elevator. "Now."

Tony sighed to himself as he stood up and dutifully followed behind Gibbs into the elevator. He wasn't the least bit surprised when Gibbs pressed the emergency stop button and stared at him silently. "What?" Tony finally asked as he leaned against the wall and looked back at Gibbs guardedly.

"I don't know, Dinozzo…why don't you tell me?"

"You're the one who called me in here," Tony retorted . "I think it's you who should be telling me."

"Fine. There's something going on with you. I'd like to know what it is."

Tony shook his head. "It's nothing. There's nothing going on with me."

"Come on, Tony. You've barely said a word all day. I think you're scaring McGee."

Tony rolled his eyes. "You know, usually people are whining about my pranks and jokes. Now I'm conscientiously performing my duties and that's a problem too? What exactly do you want from me?"

"I don't have a problem with the way you perform your job. If I did, you know I'd say so," Gibbs began. "It's just…I'm worried about you, Tony. You haven't been the same…"

"Since my father died?" Tony challenged, his eyes flashing. "It's only been a couple of weeks, boss. Do you really have a problem with this?"

Gibbs shook his head slowly. "No…I don't have a problem. It's just…If something is bothering you…I'd like to think you'd trust me enough to come to me. Maybe I could help?"

Tony was silent for a long moment and then he finally spoke up. "Guess my father reconsidered things at some point and decided to write me back into his will. I need to go back to my family home, figure out what I'm going to do with it. Surprisingly, he didn't leave any debt behind, at least not any that his attorney is aware of. I have to go through what's there and see if there's anything I want to keep or just sell it or donate it to charity. Everything inside the house is mine…if I want it…I…I don't know if there's anything I want, but…I need to do this."

Gibbs silently took in Tony's words. No wonder he was upset. He knew it had been a really long time since Tony had been home. It would certainly be an emotional experience. "When are you leaving?"

"Tonight. Figured this weekend was as good a time as any, since we're not on call or anything. I just want to get it over with and try to put this all behind me. I'll be back Sunday night."

"I'm going with you."

"What?" Tony shook his head and looked down at the floor. "You don't have to do that," he said, but he didn't sound very convincing.

"I'm going with you," Gibbs repeated . "What time is your flight?"

"Eight thirty…" Tony replied, lifting his head and looking at Gibbs gratefully. He'd deliberately tried to keep the news from the older man, but Gibbs always seemed to know when something was going on with him and now that he'd opened up to him, Tony already felt a little better about the task he had to face.

xxxxx

The two men slept in a hotel on Friday night. After having breakfast in a local diner, which Tony mostly picked at, he drove them out to his family estate early Saturday morning. It was a gloomy, rainy day which Tony found appropriate given the situation. He had to admit, the presence of Gibbs by his side was more than a little bit comforting as he inserted the key into the front door lock of his former home. He constantly found himself in tense, unknown situations, but somehow, going into this house after all these years was more nerve wracking than most of the cases he worked on. The door creaked ominously as he slowly swung it open and he and Gibbs stepped into the dimly lit entryway. Tony's heart was beating rapidly as his fingers fumbled for the light switch on the wall. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found the switch and the bright light lit up the entryway. "Welcome to Casa DiNozzo, boss."

It wasn't a very welcoming place, was Gibbs' first thought as he looked around. He had a hard time imagining a youthful DiNozzo being raised in this environment.

"More stuffy than you imagined?" Tony asked. He had been watching Gibbs closely and had a pretty good idea of what he must be thinking.

"I…its impressive," Gibbs replied.

"Let me take your coat," Tony said, suddenly thinking it might not have been such a good idea to bring Gibbs here after all. Gibbs took off his coat and silently handed it over to Tony who brought it over to a closet where he hung it up along with his own coat.

"You want a drink or anything?" Tony asked. "Not sure what's here, but one thing about my dad, his liquor cabinet was always well stocked."

"No, I'm good," Gibbs replied, shaking his head.

"Okay…Guess we should get started then." Tony forced a smile on his face as he headed towards the living room, figuring that was as good a place as any to begin.

xxxxx

Thus far, going through the house hadn't been as bad as Tony had anticipated. So much had changed since the last time he had been there. In many ways, it didn't even seem like the same house he had lived in as a boy. Almost all the furniture was different. The floors had been recarpeted, walls repainted and repapered. Most of the artwork was either gone or had been replaced by what Tony suspected to be inexpensive pieces. A lot of his former home was now virtually unrecognizable. He first started to get a little bit emotional when they reached his old childhood bedroom. It had been stripped of any personal items, nothing to signify that he had ever been there, the only items being a bed and an empty dresser and bookcase. Even the walls were bare.

"This is my old bedroom," he told Gibbs after they entered the room. "Not that there's anything left…My father wasn't exactly like yours…" He had seen Gibbs' room the one time he had been in Stillwater. He'd been unable to resist the temptation to slip inside the door for just a few minutes, wanting to catch a glimpse into Gibbs' past. It had been very Gibbs-like, a couple of marine recruiting posters on the wall, a shelf of wood carvings, a number of trophies earned for marksmanship. The important thing was that Jackson hadn't tried to erase the memories of his son, whereas it seemed Tony's father had not had a problem doing so. He could have accepted it more easily if the room had been used for something else, an exercise room or an office perhaps, but this was different. His father had removed every trace of him and then closed the door on the room and on Tony.

Gibbs stared at the barren room and it was obvious why Tony was upset. He really wasn't sure of any words that could make him feel better. "He probably cleared out the room years ago, Tony…" he finally began. "Things change over time though…he might have regretted a lot of things…"

"Yeah, I guess." Tony shrugged, trying to look nonchalant, but not quite managing to pull it off. His eyes swept over the room one last time and then he headed out with Gibbs following close behind.

They headed down the corridor and the next room on Tony's mental checklist was his father's room. He opened the door and they walked inside. The bedroom set in Tony's memories had been replaced, rendering the room just as unfamiliar as many of the other rooms in the house. Tony began opening dresser drawers and shuffling through the contents, finding nothing of any real interest or sentimental value. Gibbs scanned the room with his eyes, noting the lack of personal items and photos and he couldn't help but think how sad it all was.

"There's nothing here," Tony stated in a detached voice, after he had finished looking through the closet. However, Gibbs could see the emotion in his eyes and knew how hard Tony was trying to keep his feelings under wraps. "Let's go." Tony turned abruptly and headed out of the room, quickening his pace as they passed one door which they had yet to open.

"What about this one?" Gibbs asked, stopping in front of it.

"Not now," Tony stated, a hitch in his voice. He turned back towards Gibbs and the older man was struck by the look of intense pain in his agent's eyes. "I…I can't." Tony then all but fled down the hallway and back downstairs to the living room. He flopped down on the sofa and leaned his head back against the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. Gibbs looked at him contemplatively for a moment before sitting down next to him.

"I know this is hard…" Gibbs began.

"No…no, you don't know," Tony said, shaking his head.

"Well then tell me," Gibbs prompted gently. "It might help to talk about it."

"I don't know that I can," Tony said with a sigh.

"Can't hurt to try."

They sat in silence for a few long moments, the only sound in the room the loud ticking of the grandfather clock and the raindrops pelting down against the window panes. "If you see anything you'd like…art, furniture, whatever… let me know," Tony said. "You're welcome to it."

"There's nothing you want?" Gibbs asked, realizing that Tony was either unwilling or unable to talk about whatever demons were haunting him. "Nothing at all?"

"Not so far," Tony answered. "I just…"

"You just what?" Gibbs prodded.

"I don't know…" Tony shrugged. "I guess I thought there would be something here…something to show me that he cared." He chuckled mirthlessly and glanced at Gibbs. "I don't know why it even bothers me after all these years. It's not like we were close or anything."

"He was your father…"

"Yeah…he was my father," Tony echoed. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to leave the house and never come back. They still needed to look through the basement and the attic though, as well as the one room he wouldn't even let himself think about. "You must be hungry." He'd thought about returning to the hotel, not particularly thrilled with the idea of staying overnight in the house, but it was raining pretty hard and he didn't want Gibbs thinking he was afraid to stay in his own family's home. There was no real reason not to stay. "We can order something."

Gibbs nodded. "Sure…whatever you'd like."

Tony wasn't the least bit hungry, but knew Gibbs wouldn't let him slide by without eating. "I don't even know what's around here for takeout anymore," he admitted. "I'll look for a phone book and see what's close by." He went into his father's den and found the phone books on the bottom shelf of his bookcase. They had been kept there for as long as he could remember. It seemed that some things hadn't changed. He brought the phone book over to his father's maple desk and sat down in the leather chair. The smell of leather brought him back in time to when he was a very young boy. While his father was away on business, Tony would slip into his office and climb onto the leather chair, twirling around in it and pretending he was an important businessman. He smiled faintly at the memory as he began thumbing through the phone book. That was when he saw it, out of the corner of his eye… a photograph of him and his father, taken on a fishing trip when he was a boy. Tony picked up the picture and stared at it. He remembered the day it had been taken as clearly as if it had been yesterday. It had been a good day…a really good day, one of his fondest memories of growing up. Why was the picture here, he wondered. It looked worn, as if it had been handled often. The thought occurred to Tony that maybe, just maybe, that day had meant as much to his father as it had meant to him.

"DiNozzo?" Gibbs' sudden voice momentarily startled Tony.

"Hey boss…found the phonebook," Tony said absently, his eyes still on the photograph.

"Whatcha got there?" Gibbs asked, leaning his hip against the edge of the desk.

Tony silently handed the photograph to Gibbs, who looked at it, a smile on his face. "That's a nice picture," he commented softly. It was the first actual physical evidence he'd seen that DiNozzo's entire childhood hadn't been complete hell . It helped ease his mind somewhat and from the look on Tony's face, he was feeling at least a little better too. "Guess you've found at least one thing worth saving. It looks like this meant a lot to your dad, as well." Gibbs handed the photo back to his agent.

Tony nodded. "Yeah…maybe it did. It was a good day." He put the picture carefully aside and turned his attention back to the phone book. "There's a Chinese place not too far from here that delivers. There's also a pizza and sub shop. Or we could just go out somewhere if you want."

"Chinese sounds good to me if you're alright with that," Gibbs said.

Tony nodded. "Sure, that's fine with me too."

The two men chose some dishes and Tony placed an order. The food was delivered quickly and once it arrived, Tony found himself to be a lot hungrier than he had realized. They polished off the food and spent the rest of the evening watching a movie on television, though Tony barely paid any attention to it at all.

"It feels really weird being here," Tony commented, muting the volume of the television after the movie had concluded. "I hate that it's bothering me so much."

"I'd say that's a pretty normal reaction," Gibbs stated. "It's been a long time since you've been in this house."

"Yeah, I know, but still…"

"It's been a rough few weeks. You need to give yourself a break."

"I guess so." Tony was dead tired. He hadn't been sleeping well lately, especially the past couple of nights. Now he tried to stifle a yawn, but failed to do so.

"We should get some sleep," Gibbs suggested.

Tony nodded with a sheepish smile. "You can sleep in whichever room you'd like, boss. The guest rooms were always kept ready for visitors."

"Okay." Gibbs stood up and started out of the living room, looking back at Tony curiously when he didn't follow. "You coming up?"

Tony hesitated then shook his head. "Think I'm just going to sleep down here, boss." There was no way he was sleeping in his childhood bedroom and he wasn't particularly thrilled at the thought of sleeping in any of the guest rooms either.

"You okay?" Gibbs asked softly. He couldn't help but worry about Tony, but he didn't want to push him either.

"I'll be fine…you don't need to worry." Tony gave Gibbs what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Gibbs wasn't fooled, but decided to give Tony some space.

"I'll see you in the morning, DiNozzo."

"Nite, boss."

xxxxx

Tony managed to sleep for a few hours before he awoke and began restlessly roaming around the first floor of the house. Realizing that he didn't have a prayer of getting back to sleep, he decided to head down to the basement. There actually wasn't very much down there. His old sled, bicycle and other childhood belongings were now gone as was all of his old sporting equipment. He wasn't really surprised by this discovery though and managed to get through the basement on his own without getting emotional. After he had gone through the basement, he headed back upstairs and scrounged up some frozen bagels then put a pot of coffee on. It was only 7 a.m., but Gibbs came into the kitchen a short time later. "Did you sleep well, boss?" Tony asked, turning to look at Gibbs.

"Better than you, I'd say," Gibbs said. "Did you sleep at all?"

"Some," Tony said with a shrug. "You want a bagel? It was the only thing I could really find for breakfast. We can go out if you'd rather."

"A bagel is fine," Gibbs replied. "Coffee smells good."

"Well…nothing but the best for Anthony DiNozzo, Senior," Tony responded . "You're in for a treat, boss. My dad didn't go for the cheap stuff. "

Tony thawed the bagels in the microwave and then put them in the toaster. He watched as Gibbs took a sip of coffee. "This is good," Gibbs said.

"There's tons of it, all different kinds, all imported. You should take it."

Gibbs was tempted. It was damn good coffee, but he shook his head. "I don't think we want to be lugging tons of coffee with us on the plane."

"Okay," Tony nodded and made a mental note to add the coffee to his list of things he wanted to have packed up and shipped. There were some things in the house he wanted to send to his teammates and the rest was going to go to charity.

The bagels popped up from the toaster and the two men ate their breakfast in silence. After breakfast, Tony led Gibbs up to the attic and was surprised to find it mostly cleared out. "Guess dad hired someone to empty the place out or something," Tony surmised, wondering if his father had sold everything. Tony had spent a lot of time in the attic as a child. He had loved looking through the boxes of old things and it had also served as a place of refuge when his father was angry or Tony just wanted to be alone with his thoughts. After the death of his mother, the boy had spent many hours up there, mourning her loss. "There's nothing here," Tony finally said, a slight catch in his voice and undisguised disappointment in his eyes. Gibbs hated that this weekend hadn't given Tony anything to hold onto, save for the fishing trip photograph, and was inwardly glad they would be heading home later that day.

xxxxx

Tony stood hesitantly, his hand on the doorknob to the final unopened door…his mother's dressing room. It had been so long since he'd been in there. After his mother had died, the room had become taboo. His father had never specifically forbidden him to go into the room, but he hadn't dared to even open the door a crack, much less cross the threshold. The thought of going into that room had frightened him badly, almost as if there would be a ghosts or spirits inside, warning him to keep away.

"Tony?"

Gibbs' questioning voice broke into his thoughts and Tony gave Gibbs a faint smile before he took a deep breath and slowly opened the door. The room was dark and dusty and Tony immediately started to cough. "Damn." The room was definitely in need of a good cleaning. He wondered if anyone had even been in here since his mother's death and he felt an involuntary shudder run through him at the thought.

"Hey, you alright?" Tony felt Gibbs' comforting hand on his shoulder and he nodded.

"Yeah…yeah, I'm okay." He hoped Gibbs knew how grateful he was for accompanying him. It wasn't the kind of thing he could really put into words, but the man standing at his side was a rock and Tony had been leaning on him more often than he wanted to admit as of late.

Tony went to the window then and opened up the blinds, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room, seemingly for the first time in years. "This was my mother's dressing room," he whispered to Gibbs as he looked around and his mind began to process the furniture and items he hadn't seen in so long. It was like being in a time warp. Everything was exactly as he remembered. Her vanity was there…looking to be just as she had left it with makeup and jewelry scattered over the top of it. Tony walked over to it and picked up an earring. "I…I don't think anyone ever came in here after she died…" He put the earring back down and picked up a hairbrush, lightly fingering the bristles. Sometimes Tony had come in when his mother was getting ready for some charity function or other formal affair. He would watch her apply her makeup and comb her dark lush hair. He had loved those times they had spent together, when his mother wasn't drinking or otherwise distracted. His father had never entered this room to Tony's knowledge. It had been his mother's private domain.

He slowly walked to another door and opened it, revealing a huge walk-in closet, filled with clothes and shoes, all likely untouched since his mother had last been in there. He gently ran his fingers over the varying fabrics and became lost in the memories that certain outfits still evoked. He tilted his head upward and saw a large wrapped box on the top shelf of the closet. He reached up and grasped the box with his hands, then backed out of the closet, clutching it tightly.

"What's that?" Gibbs asked curiously as Tony approached, with a large gift-wrapped package in his hands.

"I don't know." Tony put the package down on the chair by his mother's vanity and visually inspected it. The box was covered in red wrapping paper and there was a white envelope taped to it with "Anthony" written on the front.

"My…my mom died a few days before Valentine's Day," Tony whispered, his eyes on the box, entranced.

"Did she give you gifts on Valentine's Day?" Gibbs prodded gently.

"Yeah," Tony said, nodding as he remembered. "Little things…chocolates or stuff like that. This…this might not be mine. It might have been meant for my father."

"Only one way to know for sure…"

Tony nodded again but made no move to open the box. They stood in silence for a few long moments and then Gibbs realized that maybe his agent would like some privacy. "Hey, why don't I leave you alone," he suggested quietly. "I'll be downstairs."

"No." Tony shook his head and turned to look at Gibbs, his eyes pleading. "Stay."

"Are you sure? I just thought…"

"I want you to stay." Tony then reached for the envelope which he removed from the box and placed on top of the vanity. He then began to carefully undo the wrapping paper. His hands trembling very slightly, he finally pulled the cover from the box to reveal a large, stuffed teddy bear inside.

"Oh."

From the slightly shocked expression on Tony's face, Gibbs knew this wasn't just a random stuffed toy. "Tony? Are you okay?"

Tony nodded, his eyes still on the bear. He still remembered that day so vividly. He had been walking through Macy's with his hand firmly clenched inside the hand of his mother. His father had been impatiently walking ahead of them, muttering under his breath as he carried his wife's packages. Senior had hated shopping and didn't accompany them on such trips very often. Tony had stopped short when he had seen it, a large brown teddy bear. There was a red bow with tiny white hearts around its neck and the bear's eyes had looked expressive. For a moment, the small boy had been sure the bear was silently begging him to take him home and he had looked at it wistfully.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THE HOLDUP?" Senior turned back towards them, a look of rage on his face.

"Nothing, darling," his mother replied soothingly. "We were just looking at this bear."

Senior glanced at the bear scornfully as he shook his head. "Stuffed bears are for babies and little girls. Are you a little girl, Anthony?" he asked as he grabbed his son's arm forcefully and pulled the boy alongside him.

"N…no, no sir," Tony stammered as he struggled to keep up with his father's long strides, almost tripping in the process.

"Good answer," Senior snarled as he glared at his wife. "Now, let's get the hell out of this place before you have him giving tea parties and playing with dolls."

They had left the store then and the bear had never been mentioned again. "I really wanted this bear," Tony began softly, figuring Gibbs deserved an explanation. "My father though…let's just say he was adamantly opposed to it…I can't believe she got it…she didn't usually defy him."

"Guess she saw how much it meant to you." Inside, Gibbs' heart was breaking for an 8-year old boy whose father wouldn't even let him have a teddy bear and he found himself disliking Senior even more for how he had treated Tony through his childhood. It was a wonder Tony had turned out as well as he had.

Tony nodded, his eyes moving toward the card on the vanity. He picked it up and traced his name with his fingertips before he opened the envelope and pulled the card out. He smiled when he saw the card, a cartoonish heart with eyes and a broad smile reading "To My Son on Valentine's Day." Inside the card was a typical, generic Valentine's Day saying, but his mother had written a personal message to him as well.

"This bear needed a new home and he really wanted it to be with you. I know daddy didn't think you should have a bear, so he'll stay in my dressing room and he'll be waiting for you whenever you want to play or need a friend. All my love, mommy."

Tony stared at the card for a few long moments, then handed it to Gibbs who silently read it and gave it back to Tony. The younger man took a few deep breaths, trying to keep his emotions in check. "I think I'm ready to go home now." Tony finally said softly. He put the card in the box with the bear and carefully replaced the cover. There were unshed tears in his eyes as he picked up the box and held it against his chest. "I know you think it's silly, boss…"

"It's not silly, DiNozzo," Gibbs assured him, his voice gruff as he placed his hand on Tony's shoulder. "Your mother really wanted you to have this. I don't think it's silly at all…"