The boy shivered. The room was cold and he was sitting on the floor. There was no furniture in the room, the floors and walls were made of stone. There was only one window, small and high up on the wall, lighting the room with a small sliver of moonlight. The heavy door that made up the only way in and out of the room was locked and moldy. The young boy, no more than 12, was shivering, but not so much out of cold, but out of fear. His f-, no, the Man would come back at any minute.
He would come in, stinking of booze and smoke. Sometimes he'd just get right to it and hit the boy. Other times he'd kneel and stroke the boy's face telling him he was beautiful and hurting him in ways that hurt more than punches. Sometimes he'd just stare at the boy. Or yell at him, calling him worthless, useless, ungrateful. The boy used to cry and beg and scream for help, but no one ever came. He stays quiet now. The old heavy door creaked open and the man stumbled in: drunk and red-faced. He looked up and the boy felt his skin crawl and burn. He opened his mouth to scream and found it gripped violently by strong adult hands. The man's hands moved toward his pants and the boys tears streamed down his face. He knew what was coming. The man punched him then, and the pain bloomed. The man his fist again and...
Tony sprang up in bed, his breathing hard and fast, his skin cold and clammy.
It took him a minute to realize he was in the Room anymore. He put his head in his hands and sighed. The nightmares had gotten worse lately. He'd barely slept the past month and his coworkers were beginning to see it. Gibbs had pulled him aside that day and advised Tony to go home and get a goodnight's sleep. So much for that. Tony got out from under the warm covers and went to the kitchen. After briefly weighing his options he decided to make some tea. As the kettle began to gurgle he thought back, to all the events so long ago.
He'd been five when it happened the first time. His father took him up to the DiNozzo family hunting cabin. Little Tony had been in awe of the beautiful place, when out of nowhere his father slugged him, changing the place from beautiful one, to one of permanent horror and ugliness. He'd woken up in the Room and spent his first horrifying week there. Then his father had let him out, let him shower and dress and warned him not to tell anybody. Then they'd gone back home. They repeated the sick cycle over and over and over.
Until one day, when he was 17 his mother accidentally saw the bruises, and the scars. Mary Teresa DiNozzo had wailed and let loose the most blood curdling scram Tony'd ever heard. The next few months were a blur in his memory, filed with court and testimony and therapy. It all ended in his clearest memory, the look on his father's face when they'd sentence him to the death penalty. Tony had stayed home and cried that day. His mother had watched the execution from the front row. They never spoke of it again. The months that came after the trial were even harder for Tony to think about. He'd one to a very dark place end barely managed to survive that.
And now there he was, NCIS agent Anthony DiNozzo, stuck up skirt chasing idiot. Tony laughed bitterly at his description and wished for his mother, so she could tell him he was smart, caring and talented. He hazarded a glance at his microwave and saw the time spelled out in harsh red numbers, 3:02 AM. His tea was finally ready and Tony went through all the ritualized preparations. He took a sip and sighed. It tasted like all the teas he'd made all the previous sleepless nights. He laughed at himself, a grown man, hiding out in his kitchen in the earl morning because he was afraid of dreaming.
To make matters worse he'd only managed to get to sleep at 12:00. He ambled slowly over to his worn leather couch and flipped on the TV. On the screen was a cheesy 80s soap opera, with big hair, fake tears and bad lighting. He curled up, enjoying the familiar coziness of the couch and letting himself get lost in the overacted drama. He'd just started to really understand the plot when there was a knock at the door.
Tony immediately went stiff and the old fear came flooding back. He grabbed a knife from the kitchen and slid silently over to the door. He jerked it violently open, hoping to startle whoever was behind the door.
He was successful.
"Dammit DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked. He was sill dressed n his work clothes and his eyes were awake and alert. Apparently Gibbs had trouble sleeping too.
"Sorry boss" Tony said quickly, still nervous, his eyes darting around the hallway. Gibbs walked in; sensing Tony's unease and Tony quickly closed and locked the door. He then clicked on a few lights and returned the knife to the kitchen. When he returned to the living room he saw Gibbs grimacing at his TV with contempt. With a blush, Tony realized he'd left the 80s soap on. "You watch this stuff?" Gibbs questioned, looking slightly sick. "Late at night boss. It's all that's on" Tony quickly explained and scrambled for the remote, until he heard the satisfying noise of the device powering off.
He then realized he should've just changed the channels or something, because he was now alone with his boss in total silence. Then Gibbs spoke "What on earth are you doing up DiNozzo? I thought I specifically asked you to sleep tonight. Lord knows you need it." It was said in his usual tone, harsh and rough, but still caring. "Easier said than done, boss." Tony answered, and suddenly felt young and painfully shy. He looked away, afraid that Gibbs might look in his eyes and see all his secrets.
He was ashamed, ashamed of his disobedience, hi home, the soap, and the fact that he was standing in his pajamas. "DiNozzo..." Gibbs said quietly, and softly put his hand on Tony's chin and moved Tony's head so Tony had to look at him. But Tony fought hard to keep from seeing the probing blue orbs, so his eyes darted about wildly, until Gibbs' voice, still soft but more demanding said "Anthony Daniel DiNozzo, look at me."
Tony closed his eyes and opened them slowly, confronted by those dazzlingly blue eyes. They stood there in silence for a few long moments, until Tony spoke. "I can't sleep. He's there, every time. I'm sure you know everything, I just..." Tony's eyes got watery and he held back a sob and let himself be pulled in Jethro's arms, while said man made calm noises and rubbed Tony's back. "I do know Tony. It's in your file. Everything. That's why I came by. I knew you weren't sleeping because of the nightmares. Coping takes time Tony."
His words were meant to be calming but they lit a fire of rage in Tony's chest. He burst out of their embrace, and pushed Gibbs on the chest for good measure. Before he started his tirade he gave his ex-lover a disgusted glare. "How the fuck can you say that?! Coping?! You fucker! You just dump me after all we've been through for some redhead bimbo, because you decided you didn't like boys after all, 'cause you were, are, scared! Your being there helped the nightmares so much and then you fucking leave me high and dry, and they came back Gibbs, in full fucking force! You left me alone, alone with them, dealing with them all alone and no, you tell me I just fucking need to learn to cope?!"
Tony was crying by the end of his yelling and he collapsed onto the worn leather. Jethro almost began to reply, and his first instinct was to get up and hold Tony, but he tightened his jaw and looked away in shame. Tony was right. Jethro'd just left him high and dry because he'd been afraid. The great Leroy Jethro Gibbs was afraid. And because of that he'd taken after some mindless redhead in hopes of banishing the Feelings he had for Tony. When he did that he left his lover, his best friend, best agent, and love of his life totally alone and dealing with something horrible, a monster trapped forever in his subconscious.
But then Gibbs steeled his resolve. He'd come to help Tony and get him back and by God that was what he was gonna do. "Tony..." he began softly, but his voice felt weird and scratchy, so he took a deep breath, licked his lips and tried again" "Tony I was afraid. I'll admit it. And I did something incredibly stupid because of it. And I'm sorry. So, so, so very sorry. I hated every minute I spent in her company and I was reminded that I should be with you. And I love you. So very, very much. You're my soulmate. And I'm so sorry I left you here to deal with all that alone, can you ever forgive me? Even if you say no I'll still love you. I'll love 'til the day I die Anthony DiNozzo." He took breath and joined Tony on the couch, holding him close, until all the crying stopped and Tony was just sniffling.
"Did you mean it?" Tony finally asked, in a soft, desolately sad voice, like that of a child.
"When I said I loved you? Yes, yes, a million times yes. Now, let's get some sleep, both of us." The two men got up and stumbled to Tony's bedroom, arms around each other. Gibbs helped Tony get settled and then he himself laid down next to Tony in the familiar, sweet smelling, comfortable bed. He was home and he knew it. He and Tony would weather the nightmares together and work out the kinks.
He sighed, and both men finally fell truly asleep for the first time in a month, with no tossing, turning, or reaching for absent bodies. And especially no nightmares.
A/N: Weird fic, I know. I gave Tony's dad the chair, 'cause ickle Tony didn't deserve that and I feel awful for actively being responsible for those events. But I gave him a cool mom to make him feel better. In the beginning I didn't plan for Tony and Gibbs to be lovers but it turned out like that way. I also realize it's weird that Gibbs knew about the nightmares but leaned the where they came from the file. My official story is that Tony had nightmares but wouldn't tell him why so he sneaked a peek in the file or…something. My final point is an oldie but a goodie: Pleasepleaseplease review!!!!
