WARNING: Contains references to spanking of a minor.
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. I just borrow them.
Sequel to Guns and Sons
Gibbs heard the front door open and close. He listened to the footsteps in the hall and then the kitchen. By the time they reached the stairs, he knew who it was.
"What are you doing here?" he asked with a small grin.
Tony settled himself gently on the steps. "Couldn't sleep."
Gibbs put down his mallet and walked over to the steps, put his foot on the one below Tony and studied his face. "What's on your mind?" Predictably, he clammed up and shrugged. Gibbs could see that he was shivering. "Come on," he said, patting Tony's knee, "let's go upstairs where it's a little warmer.
"It's ok, I'm fine here," Tony said.
"Well, I'm cold. And I want some coffee."
Up in the kitchen, Tony leaned against the counter while Gibbs made coffee, neither of them talking. When the coffee was ready, Gibbs poured two cups, added milk and two teaspoons of sugar to one of them and carried both to the living room. Tony followed, and settled into the chair across from the fireplace.
"So?" Gibbs asked leadingly. Tony stared into his coffee, but didn't respond. "Are you ok?" He nodded. "Tony, what is it?"
"I've just been thinking."
"About what?"
"What you said today."
Gibbs looked at him, confusion clouding his face. "I said a lot of things today. What in particular is bothering you?"
Tony shrugged. "It's not really bothering me, exactly."
"It's one in the morning. Obviously, something's bothering you," Gibbs said, starting to sound a little annoyed.
Tony sighed deeply then looked Gibbs squarely in the face. "You called me son," he said in awe. Gibbs still looked confused. "Did you mean it?" Gibbs grinned broadly. Tony looked so worried and worked up, but he couldn't help himself. "Why are you smiling?" he asked suspiciously.
"I should have known," Gibbs said, still grinning.
"Should have known what?"
Gibbs looked at him kindly. "It's the little things with you. It always has been."
"So…you didn't mean it." It wasn't a question.
Gibbs leaned back and took a long sip. "When I was a kid," he began as he put his now-empty cup on the coffee table, "I had a tendency to act before I thought. This tendency led to a lot of problems for me. My father was a great believer in the law of natural consequences, so for the most part, if I got myself into to trouble, I had to get myself out of it. But one time, my impulsiveness went a little too far.
"The year I was in 6th grade, a new family – The Weldon's – moved into town."
"And, what town was that?" Tony asked eagerly.
Gibbs gave him a look and continued. "The two boys in the family were in my class, and they quickly established themselves as the school bullies. They did all the typical bully things – stole lunch money, knocked books out of people hands, and of course beat people up – including me. Well, somewhere around Christmas, I decided that I was going to do something about it. So, I brought my dad's revolver to school."
"You what?!"
"Yeah. I know. It gets worse."
"You shot someone?" Tony asked, hardly daring to believe it.
Gibbs chuckled. "No, I didn't shoot anyone. But I did take it outside at recess. When the Weldon boys grabbed one of my friends and started pushing him, I pulled the gun out of my jacket, aimed it in the air and pulled the trigger."
Tony's eyes were saucers. "What happened?"
"Well, at first, nothing. Having never handled a gun before, I'd just assumed it was loaded. It wasn't. But one of the teachers saw me."
"So, what did your father decide was the natural consequence for that?"
Gibbs chuckled again. "Well, the principal got to decide first," he said, grimacing.
"Ouch," Tony said sympathetically.
"Uh huh. And of course, the old 'if you get paddled at school, you get it at home too' rule was in affect. So I fully expected the paddling my dad gave me as soon as I got home. And once that was done, I was sent to my room to wait until he was done with work for the day. When he came up to my room a few hours later, he laid into me pretty bad. It was one of the worst whippings I ever got." Gibbs stared at the wall as he relived the memory.
"So you got spanked three times for the same thing?" Tony asked.
"No, I got spanked twice for the same thing. The first spanking I got from my dad was because I got spanked at school."
Tony nodded. "Right."
"Anyway, when he was done, we had a little talk about how 12 year old boys have no business touching their fathers' guns and about how guns are to be used only with parental supervision and all that other stuff. And then he told me the real reason he spanked me so badly. What do you think he said?"
Tony thought about that for a moment. "Because he could have lost his gun because of you?"
Gibbs looked at the young man sadly for a moment – he really had no idea what it was like to have a father who actually cared about him. "No. He put his arm around me and said, 'Son, you have got to learn to control yourself'."
Tony looked at him for a long time, his mind obviously spinning. Finally, he said, "But…that's what you said to me." Gibbs nodded, grinning. "Wow."
"Tony," Gibbs said gently, "I know I've told you this before, but you really do remind me of myself when I was younger. And," he added, "much to my dismay, I'm starting to remind myself of my father." He smiled. "Thanks a lot," he said sarcastically.
"Sorry," Tony said. He sat quietly for a minute then suddenly stood up. "I'm sorry I bothered you," he said, heading to the kitchen.
Gibbs followed him. "Bothered me?"
"Yeah, it's really late," Tony said as he rinsed his mug.
Gibbs grabbed his arm gently and turned him so they were face-to-face. "Tony, what's wrong?" he asked quietly. "And don't just shrug your shoulders. Tell me."
Tony looked away. "It's just…I don't know…I guess, I'm just not used to it."
"Not used to what?"
"Having a real father."
Gibbs smiled and let go of Tony's arm. "Well, get used to it. I'm not going anywhere."
Tony smiled shyly. "You sure?"
"Go home," Gibbs said, pointing Tony toward the door.
As Tony stepped out onto the porch, he turned and looked at Gibbs again. "By the way," he said with a grin, "my butt still hurts."
Gibbs smiled. "Good."