If there was one thing Anthony DiNozzo knew how to do, it was how to be strong. How to never let anyone know if he was hurting behind his ever present frat-boy mask. How to pretend like his father, so present in Tony's life for not ever actually being around, didn't wake him up in a cold sweat nearly every night. How to only break down when he was well and truly drunk, alone in his apartment, wishing Gibbs, someone, anyone, Gibbs, was there, but knowing at the same time that no one would show up.

Tony had always known to be strong, ever since he was maybe seven or eight years old. When his mother had played the piano with him beside her on the smooth wooden bench for the first time, she had pointed to the small "f" marked in the margin of the sheet and given him one of his very first instructions in music. "Forte, Anthony, means strong. Proud. You understand?"

He had nodded solemnly. "Strong, Mama. I know."

His mother had given him one of her rare smiles then, told him, "Good, Anthony. That is what you must be. Forte, yes? Never, ever, let your father know you are hurting. You must always be strong, okay? Oh, Anthony. My beautiful little boy."

He had been strong. Hadn't let his father know how much the bruises stung the next day, hadn't let his father know about the curious glances his teachers gave him. He hadn't let his teachers know what really went on at the DiNozzo residence each night. Told them, sure, he was fine, if just a tad clumsy sometimes.

Now, sitting alone, in his darkened apartment, he tried to be strong again.

The team had wrapped up a difficult case earlier that day. A boy, only thirteen years old, had been found dead at his father's house. His name was Cooper Holland. He had loved soccer, and trucks, and his dog Ollie. The father, a petty officer in the Navy stationed at Quantico, had custody of the child for that weekend. When Cooper was found dead, he was wearing his father's dog tags. The father had quickly and easily been ruled out as a suspect. Petty Officer Second Class Jacob Holland was at the grocery store at the time of the accident buying Rocky Road ice cream and multicolored sprinkles for him and his son to share.

The ensuing and lengthy investigation revealed that Cooper's mother was a scheming, abusive maniac who had slipped into the house and murdered Cooper while he was playing FIFA 16 on the small TV in the den. The mother had been found outside of Quantico drunk and rambling to herself nearly a week after Cooper had been found dead.

Petty Officer Holland blamed himself. "I thought Coop was old enough. He had been at home by himself so many times before and nothing had happened. I can't believe Emma would kill him. I thought she loved him!"

It had taken a long talk with Gibbs to get Holland to stop blaming himself for the incident and focus on honoring his son's memory.

Tony had sprinted home as soon as the case was closed.

He knew there was a part of Gibbs that had never stopped being a father, that had never stopped loving the family ripped from him too soon. He saw that when Gibbs brought Abby Caf-Pows and took her out to dinner before her birthday.

He just wished that part of Gibbs came out sometimes for Tony himself.

Oh, he knew it was childish. He knew that he didn't need a father in his life. But sometimes, he wished he had one. His own father had never been much of a father. Tony wondered if when his father looked at him, a bright red punching bag appeared on Tony's face. Because that's sure what it felt like to him.

Tony sighed and lifted himself up off the couch. He dragged his feet all the way to the kitchen, where he poked dejectedly at a soggy bowl of cereal. He must have fallen asleep then, because he was woken abruptly by a sharp rap at the door and the ringing of his apartment buzzer.

"Coming," he yawned. He unlatched the chain while rubbing sleep out of his eyes. When he saw who was at the door, he rocked backwards in shock. "Boss? What are you doing here?"

Gibbs chose not to answer him, instead pushing past Tony into the apartment, flipping a few lights on before setting a pizza box the table. He opened the lid of the box, letting the aroma spread around the room.

"Ah, boss, pepperoni, sausage, and extra cheese. My favorite."

Gibbs grunted a noncommittal huh. "Got any beer around here?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so, just let me check the fridge."

Gotta keep the masks up, Tony, he thought as he pulled out two beers and opened them. "Here, boss."

"Thanks."

They sat in silence, eating pizza and sipping beer until Gibbs broke the silence. "Good kid."

"Who?"

"You know who, DiNozzo."

"Cooper."

"Yeah."

"His mom was an asshole," Tony said vehemently, surprising even himself.

Gibbs gave him an appraising look. "You think so?"

"God, boss! How could you even deny that? She beat Cooper and then killed him! My dad never killed anyone!" Crap, crap, crap, my dad, no!

"Your dad, DiNozzo?"

Tony stood up from his seat and shouted. "Yeah, so what! So what if my father was a manipulative bastard who treated me and my mom like a punching bag? So what! Look, boss, if you just came here to bring me pizza and interrogate me, forget it. I don't need anyone. I've been fine on my own so far," he finished bitterly.

Gibbs' response floored Tony. "Don't always have to be strong, DiNozzo. 'Specially not with me."

"Yeah, boss, actually I do. Because I learned early that when you're not strong, people take advantage of you. So what do you want, huh? What do you want, boss?"

"Just thought I could have a beer with a friend, Tony. That's all."

Tony sat back down. "Boss…"

"Look, DiNozzo. I know the Holland case brought back a lot of memories. And I know that you've been sitting in your apartment willing yourself not to drink them away, right?"

"You must've been a real good dad, boss," Tony mused. Then he sat bolt upright and clapped a hand over his mouth, looking stricken. "I mean, um, boss, sorry, um, I."

"Shut up, DiNozzo."

"Shutting up, boss."

Gibbs gave him a faint smile. "Kelly always wanted a brother, you know."

"I'm not, you can't, wait, boss?"

"You heard me, Tony," Gibbs said. "I know your dad wasn't ever much of a dad. And I can't ever fix that. But you know what I want?"

"No, boss."

"Want you to stop feeling like you'll never belong. You've got a family here, Tony. Me, Abs, hell, even Palmer. Okay?"

Tony's face broke into its first true smile since the body of Cooper Holland was called in. "Love you too, boss."

Forte = strong in Italian.

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