"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stand a little taller..." the Marine (once a Marine, always a Marine) started to sing to his heartbroken son. Kate was dead. Kate, who had stood by his son even though she knew she could be infected and die, was dead. Not from the plague, but a bullet fired by Ari Haswari.
"Dad," the younger man moaned in pure and raw emotional agony while clutching his dad's shirt in a vice-like grip. The older man knew somewhere deep down what his son needed. Whenever Kelly was sick or very sad, something that never failed to help was skin on skin contact. He disentangled himself from his son and took his shirt off. He sat back down, barely having time to open his arms before Tony immediately scooted closer and threw himself into his dad's embrace. The tears ceased when Tony's head made contact with his father's bare chest. His breathing calmed down and eventually evened out, soft yet gentle snores like music to the old man's ears.
34 Years Ago:
Four year old Tony Dinozzo was digging through garbage cans looking for his next meal when a kind man with ocean blue eyes walked up to him. Tony's overactive gut told him to flee but against his better judgement, he stayed. "I'm here to help you," the seemingly kind stranger said, and he bolted because he didn't want to know what would happen if Senior found out.
Present Time:
"You were the kind stranger who tried to help me," Tony said, awakening with a gasp. "Yes, I tried. I could've tried harder, but you're a stubborn old mule," Gibbs replied. Tony snuggled closer, relishing the close contact with his father. "Look whose talking," Tony said, a weak attempt at humor.
He sobered up quickly.
"Son, Kate would want you to laugh. I know she looks down on you not knowing who the hell you are because the Tony she knew would stand a little taller."
