Convincing the World He Didn't Exist
Chapter two
Gibbs pulled the plank of wood out of the steam bath and tightly clamped one end to the vice. He used the weight of his body to bend the wood into shape and held it firm as the plank cooled. Satisfied, he turned the steam off and picked up the chipped coffee mug that sat on his workbench. He took a deep swallow and sighed as the alcohol hit his stomach. It didn't quell the feeling of dread he felt but it sure helped.
He picked up his cell phone and for what seemed like the tenth time that evening, checked that the damn thing was switched on.
For months now, every evening he'd wait for a call. A call that he fervently hoped with all his soul he'd never actually receive.
The only time he'd let himself fully relax was each morning when he saw Tony walk out of the elevator and into the bullpen. The relief he felt when he saw his agent on those mornings was something he couldn't put into words.
Why did he watch out every morning?
Because Tony was scaring him right now.
Oh, he was well aware that people thought he didn't give a crap about anything or anyone, but that wasn't the truth. His team meant more to him than anyone would ever know, but his Marine background was such that you didn't show feelings too readily because that just muddied the water. You did your job and you showed you cared by covering their asses…that was the code.
You didn't get too close to anyone because in a job where you could get blown to hell at any point it didn't bode well for your mental health.
But somewhere down the line he'd relaxed that particular code even if he didn't always show it.
Tim infuriated and made him proud in equal measure. Even after all the years he'd been a field agent he still needed to toughen up and not take things so personally, but he was shaping up nicely.
Ziva. She was fiercely dedicated and one hell of a fighter. She had slotted into the team after Kate had died and added an element that he hadn't been aware was missing.
Abby was Abby. She always could make him smile, her boisterousness the very essence of the girl. She was one of the very few genuinely 'good' people he'd ever come across, and his trips to her lab were often the highlight of his day.
Ducky was the voice of reason he needed and was one of his closest friends.
But it was his senior field agent that kept him oddly grounded. He couldn't explain it, but out of everyone he'd ever worked with, Tony was the only person he'd trusted implicitly to have his back.
Duck kept saying that they were more alike than they both realized, and that's what had him so worried. He had looked into the green eyes and seen a glimpse of his own past hurtling back at him. He recognized the look of utter defeat in Tony's eyes as the one that had stared back at him after Kelly and Shannon had died, and that's what scared the hell out of him.
He knew that road well and he knew where it could lead if you didn't pull yourself out of its oppressive darkness.
Gibbs took another swig of bourbon.
He couldn't put his finger on when he first noticed the ominous cloud that hung over his senior agent like a storm, the malaise that haunted his eyes and showed in every tense muscle and every surreptitiously clenched jaw.
The big open-beam smiles were still there, the infantile sense of humor was definitely still in attendance – ask McGee, who'd found his coffee mug super glued to his hand yesterday-- and his focus on the job was still impeccable --when needed -- but it just didn't ring true to Gibbs.
If you didn't know what to look for, you would have missed all the subtle changes in the subtexts that made up DiNozzo's complex personality. But he'd known Tony for a long time, and over the years he'd learnt to read his agent pretty well. With Tony, it wasn't about what you saw but what you didn't see. It was about what Tony hid.
Tony was pure smoke and mirrors.
Tony DiNozzo was an illusion that rivaled anything David Blaine could come up with.
He knew that when he first recruited Tony, his fellow agents and superiors thought he'd clearly lost his mind. Here was a man who appeared to have all the intellect of an amoeba.
Tony didn't seem to know when to keep his mouth shut. He was politically incorrect to the extreme, thought nothing of comments about boobs and sex around the water cooler. He appeared to be as enlightened as a cross between Neanderthal man and your typical fifteen year old jock.
He managed to rub everybody the wrong way.
Hell, DiNozzo pissed people off more than he did and that was quite an achievement. But somehow people always forgave Tony. Gibbs was sure they didn't even know why they did, but no matter what went before people found themselves actually liking Tony. Maybe it was because there was never any malice behind his comments or actions.
But he'd seen beyond all that crap right from the start, known that behind the sex-fiend persona and the moronic behavior was a sharp mind and one hell of a cop.
Tony had a disarming quality about him that served well with suspects and victims alike, got them to open up before they knew they were doing it.
When Tony stopped grandstanding like a hyperactive kid he was an excellent agent. Tony often saw things from a different slant and what distinguished him more than anyone Gibbs had worked with before were his skills undercover. DiNozzo could effortlessly morph into whoever and whatever he needed to be. It was frightening to watch because anyone who could readily lose himself so quickly, so completely …well, it made you wonder just who that person really was.
And that was why he wasn't buying Tony's act now.
And it was an act.
The dark circles under Tony's eyes told of sleepless nights, and often he smelt alcohol on his second-in-command's breath, which was a new development. In the past Tony would nurse a few beers but that was usually the extent of his drinking, unless he was at a frat house reunion. The drinking alarmed him. Tony, for all his unique and irritating ways, was professional when it came to work and that meant not coming in half-drunk. Not that most would have noticed, as he covered it well, but it was like he really didn't care anymore.
That's what scared him most.
If he didn't care about work, then he didn't care about himself.
That smacked of one thing in his mind.
He'd seen it many times before.
He'd been there himself.
After he'd shot the son-of-a-bitch who'd killed his wife and daughter, he'd hoped for closure. All he got instead was a great big empty hole where his life had been. He just didn't give a shit about anything. He drank heavily. He picked fights with people twice his size. And although he'd never admit it to anyone, he'd picked up his gun on more than one occasion back then and stared down the barrel.
He'd come so close to pulling the trigger until one day it just stopped hurting so much.
Just like that. He'd had no great epiphany about life, no great revelation.
One day it had just gotten better.
And that was the bitch.
Gibbs sat back and rubbed his eyes.
Talking wouldn't help. He knew that from experience. When you were that low, words were cheap. Therapy worked for some. Tim was the type of guy who could spill his guts, but it was not for them. They were too much alike, both going through life mistrusting strangers, swearing blind to friends that everything was okay.
Tony was definitely as stubborn as he was that way. Though on reflection, Tony was probably far worse because… hell…. being married as many times as he'd been must have meant he had let people in at some point. Tony firmly kept his women at arm's length at all times, especially since Jeanne.
Gibbs picked up a sanding block and started to methodically rub the already satin smooth surface of the boat. The familiar action helped to calm the agitation he felt.
Tony would either manage to shake off the black dogs that were chasing him… or he wouldn't.
It was as simple as that.
Only Tony could crawl out of that hole.
Only Tony could fight it.
He prayed as he sanded that tonight Tony would cling onto that small something that would stop him from actually putting the cold steel under his chin and pulling that damn trigger because a world without Anthony DiNozzo in it would be a fucking tragedy.
He wasn't sure the team could survive if anything were to happen to Tony.
Gibbs threw the sanding block against the stairs and watched as it bounced against the rail. He'd never felt so damn helpless in all his life.
It was easier when he didn't care.
Fin??
Or should I continue....*strokes my imaginary beard*
R+R people, I'm such a review whore. :)