************************************88
Tony blinked his eyes open before realizing that the light added to his already excruciating headache. It was that pain that brought him to consciousness and he wondered if he even had the power to make his hangover remedy. Suddenly, he remembered work and threw the blanket off in an attempt to sit up. It was then that he realized he wasn't in his own bed, or for that matter, his own apartment. Trying to focus on his surroundings, he mumbled, "Where the hell am I?" Then, recollecting the events of the previous night, he said, "Abby?" while secretly praying this wasn't her apartment. "Please don't tell me there's a coffin around here."
"There isn't."
He rotated his head, squinting up into the shadowed face. "Gibbs?"
"Yeah. How'd ya feel?"
Tony managed to move himself into a sitting position. "Like shit. What happened?"
"Why don't you tell me?"
He rubbed his hands over his face, then leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. "We have to pick up Stone this morning."
"McGee and Ziva are taking care of it."
Tony wasn't sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, he was relieved he didn't have to move, on the other, there was nothing standing in the way of having to answer questions he'd rather not. "Maybe we should help them?"
"They're quite capable of bringing him in."
'Figures,' he thought. Then it occurred to him that maybe Gibbs could help him with his decision, but that would mean he might have to divulge some things… things he wasn't sure he could share. "I slept in my clothes."
"Yep."
"I'm going home to shower."
Gibbs dropped a set of towels on the table and said, "You know where it is."
Tony rubbed his face. This wasn't what he had in mind. "I'd really rather go home."
Gibbs stared, having the intended effect of making his agent uncomfortable.
"Boss, I appreciate what you're doing, but it's not your fight. Hell, it ain't even your concern." Focusing his vision was still difficult, and he rubbed his eyes again, only serving to irritate them more. "I mean, I can't really help these guys out. They show up, dressed in standard issue black suits, take me into the conference room and ask me to remember something that happened decades ago. I can't do it… I won't do it." He pushed off the sofa, still fuzzy-headed and off balance, knowing Gibbs was staring at him, waiting for him to give the right answer. The only problem was, he didn't know what that answer was. "Do you think you could drive me home?"
"Not yet."
"C'mon, Gibbs," he said as forcefully as his hangover would allow. "I just told you I'd rather go home and shower. No offense, but I have my routine and I don't like to change it up."
"Routine? The one for when the girl sleeps over, or the one for when you wake up alone?"
"Funny."
"Sit down." Gibbs could see the internal struggle almost as if it were happening between two people. It took a few more minutes of him fighting the request, but he eventually sat back down, something Gibbs knew he would do if given enough time. "You want to talk about it?"
"No."
Leroy Jethro Gibbs leaned back. He was in no hurry and nothing right now was more important to him. In fact, if this were an interrogation, this was the part he liked second only to hitting the desk when he was pressed for time. He could wait as long as DiNozzo could; longer if necessary.
"C'mon, Boss. Drive me home. Please?"
"Okay… in a bit."
Tony knew what that meant. "There's nothing to talk about."
"Maybe we should go drinking together. Better yet, you want me to bring up my bottle of Jack Daniels?"
Tony almost vomited at that thought, but the comment forced him to think about his time with Abby. He, no doubt, talked too much, and she, no doubt, passed along everything he'd said. The question was, what did he say? Damn, he wished his headache would subside, at least long enough for him to think back to their conversation and remember what kind of details he had managed to share about his past. It had to have been ugly, but then again, maybe not. Gibbs hadn't mentioned anything and he didn't look like he was disappointed or disgusted, so maybe it wasn't so bad. Maybe. "Come on… Gibbs, just drive me home."
"I will. Just not yet. I'm curious about something."
"What?"
"Your decision about testifying?"
"I told you, I'm not doing it because I don't remember what happened."
"Actually, you said you did remember, but that you thought no one would believe you."
Great, Tony thought, parsing sentences and words this early in the morning on an empty stomach while nursing a hangover was not on his list of the top one hundred things to do, ever. "Does it really matter?"
"I'm glad you asked that because I wonder that myself. Does it matter... Answer me this: What kind of cop lets a child molester walk?"
Tony sat up straighter, jutting his chin forward. "I'm not letting anyone walk!"
"That's not how I see it."
Tony smirked, anger building behind bloodshot eyes.
Gibbs continued, "This guy hurt you, Tony. He hurt a lot of boys, and you have an opportunity to do something about it."
"What the hell do you know about it?" he snapped, but then he remembered this was Gibbs, and Gibbs probably knew more about the case than he did at this point. "I'm not testifying! I can't!"
"So it's okay with you to let this guy continue to molest, beat up, and emotionally destroy other boys. How many more? Two? Ten? Twenty?"
"What do you want from me! I told you already, no one's going to believe me! It'll be just like—" Tony stopped short, knowing he was about to say something he wouldn't be able to return from. "Nevermind. I'll call a cab if I have to." He pushed off the couch and left.
*******************************************8
Gibbs looked up and watched Tony drop his pack and stow his gun in his drawer. He had made it into the office before noon, but he didn't look much better than when he left his house several hours earlier.
Ziva sized him him up, "You look like hell. What'd you do last night?"
"I slept on an uncomfortable couch in a cold house."
"It could have been worse," McGee offered. "You could have been in a coffin."
Tony ran his hand over his face, feeling the stubble of facial growth. 'Damn, I forgot to shave,' he thought. "Did we get the tapes from the bank?"
McGee furrowed his brow, "Ye-a-h. Actually, you got them yesterday."
"Oh. Then we've got to pick up Stone."
Ziva narrowed her eyes and replied, "We did that already. Are you okay?"
"No! I'm not okay! I'm tired of people asking me IF I'M OKAY!"
Ziva and McGee looked at each other. There was something scary about their partner when he got angry. Ziva decided against asking any more questions and instead brought him up to speed, "We picked up Stone this morning. He was fairly confident we didn't have anything on him until Gibbs interrogated him. He didn't confess, but he did demand a lawyer. He's waiting to be transferred now."
Tony powered up his computer and tried to relax. It was easy to ignore his colleagues, and even easier to ignore Gibbs, but what wasn't so easy to ignore were Agents Maxwell and Neal, who seemed to materialize before his eyeballs. "What do you two want now?"
"We were told that you had a change of heart," Maxwell said, beginning to question the phone call now that he saw the unkempt agent.
"I didn't call you," Tony snapped.
Maxwell turned and looked at Ziva, hoping she might be able to clear up the confusion.
"Do not look at me. I did not call you nor do I know who did."
"I did," Gibbs said.
Tony clenched his teeth, feeling an anger towards his boss that he had never felt before. What the hell business was this of his?
Neal addressed the team leader, "I thought you said he was willing to testify."
"No. I said he had a change of heart. He just hasn't realized it yet."
"What?" Tony said, feeling the tightening in his chest.
"You're an officer of the law, Special Agent DiNozzo, sworn to uphold it at any cost. If a crime's been committed, it's your duty to report it."
"You've got to be kidding me," he said, practically to himself as he stared at his boss.
The tension in the squad room was so thick that the entire floor was silent. Gibbs calmly stared down his senior field agent, but he wasn't fully prepared for Tony to stare back.
Ziva and McGee barely moved their bodies at the standoff, and the FBI agents just stood there, unsure of what to do.
Tony broke the silence by standing abruptly and sending his chair crashing backwards against his credenza. He walked over to his boss' desk and stared down on him. "What are you doing?"
Gibbs shrugged.
"You can't order me to testify."
"No, I can't."
When nothing more was forthcoming and the staring game had begun again, Tony had had enough. He returned to his desk, pulled out a piece of paper and began writing. Maxwell tilted his head trying to read the form. Tony slapped it down on Gibbs' desk and said, "I need some time. I'm requesting a week's vacation." He returned to his desk, picked up his pack, gun, badge and left.
"McGee." Gibbs ticked his head towards the exit.
Grabbing his stuff, he raced between the desks hoping to catch the elevator in time, "Tony! Wait up!"
Neal put his hands on his hips and said, "I'm not sure what we just witnessed here, but I'm thinking he hasn't reconsidered his position."
Gibbs thought about the statement and said, "Have you worked with many victims of child abuse, Agent Neal?"
He hedged, and shifted his weight from foot to foot.
"I didn't think so. What you're asking him to do is not easy. He's a man who's overcome a lot to get where he is and to ask him to step backwards is a slippery slope. He'll come around, but it's going to take some time."
Maxwell bit his lip, thinking, "It can't take too long, Special Agent Gibbs. We don't have much of a case and we're running out of time. Miller's looking at walking again."
*********************************************8
"What do you want, McGee?"
"I thought I'd keep you company," he answered, barely making it inside the elevator before the doors closed.
"Why."
"Umm. No reason."
"It's not necessary. I'm not going to off myself."
That thought hadn't occurred to McGee and now he looked concerned, "I never thought you were going to do that…. Until now."
They rode down in silence, partly because McGee had no idea what to say and partly because he didn't want to say anything. Tony still had a way of scaring him. Once outside, McGee followed him to his car and jumped into the passenger's seat.
Tony set his jaw, and quietly toned, "What are you doing?"
"I'm keeping you company."
"Get out. I don't need any company."
"Umm," McGee thought about what Gibbs would to do him if he let Tony out of his sight. "I don't want to get out. We can have fun today."
"McGee, you've got the wrong body parts for me to be having fun with."
"Well, then, let's have fun some other way."
Too tired and still too hung-over to argue, Tony started the car and pulled out. Where he was going, he didn't know. He just drove in silence, while McGee stared out the window.
Eventually, Tony pondered, "Why would Gibbs call me out like that?"
After the lengthy, silent ride, McGee was not prepared for a question, let alone that kind of question. "I don't know."
"I mean, why is he so interested in this? What's in it for him?"
McGee shrugged, "I don't think there's anything in it for him."
The silence returned and McGee resumed looking out the window. Tony drove East towards the shore. It took three hours, but they eventually made it to the Maryland resort aptly named Ocean City. The warm sunshine felt good and Tony sat in the sand. The two watched the beach goers and children and tourists doing their own thing. Tony finally asked, "What do you think I should do?"
"I think there's only one thing to do."
"Easy for you to say," and he laid back on the beach and closed his eyes.
McGee wasn't sure how to respond, but soon he heard the heavy breathing indicative of slumber. He pulled out his phone and sent a text message. Then he leaned back on his elbows, and watched the people around him while he waited for his friend to awaken.
****************************************8
It was close to one o'clock in the morning when the phone rang. Gibbs set down his sanding block and answered, "How is he?"
"Drunk. We'll be at your place in five minutes."
Gibbs reached in and pulled Tony out of the passenger seat again.
He protested, "Provee… you sed sh-you were takin' me h-home."
With McGee's help, they walked him inside and deposited him on the sofa, but unlike the preceding night, he didn't want to stay. Struggling to stand, Tony slurred, "Take me h-home, Provee."
"It's been a long day, Boss," McGee said, ignoring his partner's drunken pleas. The two stared at the agent as he tried to stand and make coherent sentences. After several unsuccessful attempts, he gave into his drunkenness and sunk into the warm sofa, feeling safe and secure once again.
"Did he say anything?"
"Bits and pieces of things. It wasn't his father who sent him off to that camp for delinquent boys; it was his father's assistant. She couldn't handle him and she had her sights set on marrying a very rich Senior. She figured with Tony out of the way, she could make her move. He said the other boys in the camp were bad asses, and he never understood why he had been sent there."
Gibbs stared down at his passed out agent. "Thanks, Tim. Go home, get some rest."
Gibbs removed Tony's shoes and swung his legs on the sofa. Then he covered him with the blanket and sat on the chair, staring and thinking. "What'd you go through, Tony?"
TBC
