Hey everyone, thank you for all the well wishes to my sister and the new baby, they are both doing well but things are still pretty crazy so updates are kind of difficult. Two points for AwkwardBanana who shares my David Tennant Doctor love, with Tony's British background I couldn't resist adding it in this story.
I hope you enjoy, and pretty please review!
Renee

Tony was alone in the room, staring up at the folds in the cloth hanging above his bed. Gulping he gripped his pillow, still stuffed with Gibbs's coat.

"I'm okay. There's nothing there, nothing is going to hurt me. Everything is fine. There are no monsters in the canopy."

The only monster is the one down the hall.

Tony drew his knees up to himself and curled under the blankets.

He closed his eyes as tight as they would go and tried to think of ways to drown out the noises from down the hall. The drunken laughter and shouts that he knew would dissolve to anger and tears within hours. Clutching the pillow to his chest he began to whisper a song to himself, a lullaby his mother would sing when she was too drunk to see straight. He used to curl up by her when she had drank too much, when she wasn't thinking enough to send him away. He could remember every word, forever imprinted in his thoughts. Her voice thin and wavering, flowing through his mind like her ghost, drifting down the halls.

"Sleep, my child and peace attend thee,
All through the night
Guardian angels, God will send thee,
All through the night
Soft, the drowsy hours are creeping
Hill and vale, in slumber sleeping,
I, my loving vigil keeping
All through the night.
While the moon, her watch is keeping
All through the night
While the weary world is sleeping
All through the night
O'er thy spirit gently stealing
Visions of delight revealing
Breathes a pure and holy feeling
All through the night.
Love to thee, my thoughts are turning
All through the night
All for thee, my heart is yearning,
All through the night.
Though sad fate our lives may sever
Parting will not last forever,
There's a hope that leaves me never,
All through the night."

Tony's thin voice wavered as he whispered to himself.

"All th-rough the ni-night."

The room was quiet as Tony's voice faded out. He shivered and curled tighter, burying his face in the pillow, taking a deep breath, he drew in the scent of Gibbs.

He relaxed the slightest bit, thoughts of the nice man washing over him. He held on to the thought of a hope, maybe even his own guardian angel. He was okay. He let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes.

He was just trying to sleep. All he wanted to was sleep. If he could only just…

The sound of slamming doors startled him along with his father's drunken calls to the unknown woman.

Shivering, he stood shakily and began to pull on the clothes he had earlier carefully folded and placed on his window seat. Pulling the package of bread out from under his bed and gently slipping the coat from the pillow case, Tony crept to his window and slid it open.

xxx

Gibbs grumbled he got in his car and drove down the street, moving without thinking. His beloved Charger seemed to know where he wanted to go. He hadn't gotten out of NCIS until every other agent had left and the cleaning crew had arrived and he knew that going home wasn't going to calm him.

The files sitting in the front seat of his car were taunting him. He hadn't been able to read them yet and he wasn't going to be able to rest until he did. Thankfully he had the rest of the weekend off rotation and could spend the rest of the night learning everything there was to know about Anthony DiNozzo Senior. If he was hurting his son, the God help him when he got ahold of him.

He sighed when he arrived at the park, jumping from the car he glanced at his watch and saw that it was just past midnight. He wasn't sure why he was here, there was no guarantee Tony would be coming, but his gut wouldn't settle until he stepped on the park grounds, and he knew that he had to follow this hunch before he decided to start digging.

He walked towards the water, his eyes scanning the park for the small figure. Seeing nothing, he settled himself on the grass, watching the water ripple through the cattails preparing to wait. He brushed his fingers through the dying grass, feeling the rough edges move through his fingers. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his forehead with weariness, his case was closed and he had walked right into another one, and this time it was something he may not be able to fix. Technically it wasn't even in his jurisdiction, neither Tony nor his father were involved in the Navy, so Gibbs would have to hand Sr. over to local police.

If I can even prove anything.

Hearing a slight sound, he glanced up, prepared for anything, but expecting only one person.

A duck quacked at him.

"Jim."

If a duck could glare, it did.

Gibbs raised his eyebrow as the duck turned and swam away, apparently not pleased to see him.

"Guess I forgot the bread."

"Th-that's okay Mr. Gibbs. I b-brought a l-l-lot."

Gibbs turned his head, actually surprised by Tony's appearance. Distracted by the duck he had missed the boy come slipping out of the trees and walk up to him.

Tony had paused seeing a man sitting by the water, all of Miguel and Mayer's lectures about the dangers of strangers echoing in his thoughts, but after hearing the man greet Jim he relaxed, recognizing the voice.

Gibbs smiled at the boy, who came to stand next to him.

"How are you tonight Tony?"

"F-Fine. How are y-you Mr. Gibbs."

"Just Gibbs. I'm fine, it's good to see you."

Tony smiled, the edges of the lips tugging up just the slightest.

"It's g-good to see you t-too. May I s-s-sit down?"

Gibbs leaned back on his hands.

"Course Tony, it's your park. Sit."

Gibbs watched with a careful eye as Tony cautiously lowered himself to the ground, moving with an uneasy grace.

"It's not m-m-my park."

Gibbs grinned over at the boy.

"Might as well be. No one ever comes here anymore, especially this late. Besides, the duck likes you, and the ducks own the pond. The park is yours."

Tony gave that half grin again. Gibbs found himself wondering what it would be like to see the little boy smile. A real smile, wide and full, built with laughter, strong and warm. The piece of Gibbs that would always, always be a father broke a little farther at the thought that Tony never smiled liked that because he didn't have a reason.

The part of him that was stronger than the part that was an agent, a man, a marine, the part of him that would be a father until the day he died vowed then and there that Tony would smile.

One day.

And he would be there to see it.

Tony settled himself next to Gibbs and sighed, pulling a bread bag full of heals from the coat pocket, before shrugging out of the thick dark grey wool coat that was about to swallow him whole. Moving with very deliberate action, he took the coat off and offered it to Gibbs.

He looked at the boy, and the coat being held out silently.

He had brought his coat back.

He cast his eyes over what Tony was wearing. Brown dress pants and a blue button up shirt. Nice clothes, but thin. His decision was made without thought.

"Keep it."

Tony looked at the coat in his hands then up to the man sitting next to him.

"B-b-but it's y-y-yours."

"And I gave it to you. It's cold Tony, and I have a coat, I want you to have that one."

Tony looked down at the coat in his hands and his grip tightened on it. Gibbs slowly reached out, and took it from his hands. Confused, Tony's eyes darted to Gibbs. Moving at a easy pace, Gibbs put the coat on Tony's shoulders, wrapping the boy back in the coat's engulfing warmth.

Tony gave a quiet sigh, a sound of relief as he let himself relax back into the warmth.

Gibbs smiled at the expression on his face, even as it tugged at his heart.

"Th-th-thank you."

How sad that someone should get so much relief from a simple coat. What happens in that house?

"I think Jim saw you get the bread. You better offer him some before he gets up here and starts tearing us a new one."

Tony grinned and pulled a piece of bread out, offering it to Gibbs. He took it with thanks, and copied Tony's actions of tearing the bread and tossing it in the water to the cantankerous duck.

"So what do you and Jim usually talk about?"

Tony shrugged, his eyes on the duck.

"B-b-books, movies, tv sh-shows. S-sometimes school. But I d-don't like t-t-talking about it m-much."

Gibbs quirked an eyebrow at that. No kid really enjoyed school but Tony's avoidance had a different ring to it. Something that screamed 'Don't touch it!'.

He took the hint.

He turned back to the water and watched it move with the duck as it chased after the bread.

Gibbs was horrible at small talk. Or any kind of talk, really. But the kid was so quiet, he had the feeling they could sit there until sunrise and not say a word to each other. And that wasn't going to work.

"I heard you talking about someone named Peter Davidson and Daniel Tennant the other night. And celery? What was all of that?"

"D-D-David Tennant. And Peter Da-Davison. They were b-b-both the Doctor in Doctor Who. Th-th-that's my f-f-favorite tv show. It was my m-m-mother's too. H-h-her favorite D-D-Doctor was f-f-f-five and that was Peter. He always w-w-wore a piece of celery p-p-pinned to his lapel. I d-d-don't know why, h-h-he just does. I th-thought that J-Jim would appreciate that. In th-th-th Time Crash Sp-special, D-D-David Tennant said it w-w-was a 'D-decorative vegetable.' D-David is m-my favorite, he is the tenth D-D-Doctor. I th-th-think he is the most like m-me."

Gibbs blinked and rubbed the back of his neck. That was two minutes of talking, and he had absolutely no idea what was said. Numbered doctors and decorative vegetables. He could roll with it though.

"Why is David like you?"

"He acts r-r-really happy, b-b-but he has s-s-sad eyes. L-l-like me."

Gibbs leaned back at the amount of self awareness in that statement.

"Why are your eyes sad Tony?"

Tony stiffened and glanced over at Gibbs, as if he had forgotten who he had been answering.

"My m-m-mother was from England. H-Have you ever been there?"

Gibbs shook his head.

Tony screwed the corner of his mouth.

"M-Me neither. But she told me one n-n-night that she w-w-would take me. She would w-w-w-watch Doctor Who when she was little in England and she said s-s-s-since I was h-h-half British I h-h-had to w-w-watch it too. I'm glad I did. It was the only t-t-t-time she would sit w-w-with me. M-mother w-w-was always...busy. But she wo-wo-would always stop and watch Doctor Who wi-with me. Always. I think it m-m-made her remember wh-when she was h-h-happy, and that m-m-ade me happy. I still w-w-watch it, so I c-c-can think about her happy. Does that m-m-make s-sense?"

Tony looked up at Gibbs, hope and fear obvious in his eyes, hope that Gibbs would accept thoughts, fear he would ridicule his honesty.

Gibbs swallowed hard at the bare truth in what the boy had said. Tony missed his mom, he wanted his family back.

Gibbs could relate to that.

"Yeah Tony, that makes a lot of sense."

The two lapsed back into silence.

Tony glanced over a Gibbs who was staring at the water with a contemplative expression. His curiosity was killing him, but his father always got so angry when he asked him a question…

He better not.

He bit his lip and turned back to the gentle ripples, caused by Jim's movements, chasing bread bits.

Gibbs glanced back down at Tony.

"So what's the story tonight?"

"Hmm? I m-mean wh-what sir?"

"No sir Tony, just Gibbs. I mean what are you doing here tonight? Looking for silence again?"

Tony sniffed rubbing his eyes.

"In w-w-way...yes."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at the statement. It sounded so adult, but then again, what did this boy do that was very childlike anyway?

"In a way…?"

Tony picked at a piece of grass and chewed on his lip.

"My fa-fa-father's new girlfriend is over. Th-they're loud and… I co-co-couldn't sleep."

Gibbs felt the familiar rush of anger come burning through his veins. The kid had to come to a park in the middle of the night just to find some peace and quiet away from a man who was so insensitive to his own child's needs.

Gibbs took a deep breath and pushed down his rising blood pressure. He looked down at Tony and saw the boy fighting his drooping eyelids.

Instead of replying, Gibbs went quiet, watching as Tony failed at fighting slumber.

"I c-c-can't fall asleep Gi-Gibbs. It's not safe."

Gibbs put a hand on Tony's shoulder, gentle and kind.

"Don't worry Tony, I've got your six."

Xxx

The dark was moving. Shadows were twisting, writhing, stretching until their intangible quality became something solid, something terrifying. Tony tried to take a step back, but he couldn't move. The warping shadow moved towards him, reaching out, it's arm long, slowly changing into the pale cold arm of a man. Like a disease, a twisting vine the skin on the arm moved from the fingertips and up the rest of the shadow, until it wasn't a shadow anymore, but a tall pale man, eyes red as the blood dripping from its' cruel smile. A glass of brandy was in his hand, long pointed nails curving around the glass.

"Hello Anthony."

Tony jerked awake with a gasp.

"Tony?"

Breathing harsh and heavy, he flinched away from the voice, moving away from the warmth he had been leaning into, disoriented.

Gibbs paused, lifting his hands up showing he wasn't a threat. For the past couple hours Tony had been asleep, leaning against his side, with Gibbs' arm wrapped around him. Gibbs had felt more and more of his hard marine exterior be chipped away as the boy curled into his side, pressing his face into his chest, snuffling and murmuring in his sleep.

Instincts and memories that he had tried to bury away and forget about had come back along with a protectiveness that reared its head with a ferocity he wasn't expecting when he heard Tony whisper an apology in his sleep. In his sleep!

He had brushed the boys hair away from his face and murmured a reassurance, watching the child settle back into slumber. Things had been peaceful and Gibbs was quite content to sit there for the rest of his life until Tony awoke.

He had been quiet and still one moment, and half a foot away the next.

"Tony? Are you alright?"

The boy's eyes darted around taking in his surroundings, the abandoned park, the empty bag of bread at his feet before landing back at the other man.

Gibbs could see the fear, the caution reflected back in the wide green meeting his blue.

"Mr. Gi-Gibbs? Did I f-fall asleep?"

He nodded, his hands still where Tony could see them.

"Yeah, you were asleep. It's just after three."

Tony blinked and began to get to his feet, a little unsteady as he blinked sleep out of his eyes.

"I'm so-so-sorry I fell asleep Mr. Gibbs. I d-didn't mean to."

Gibbs stood slowly, being sure to keep distance between him and Tony, not wanting to scare the boy further.

"Don't be sorry, Tony, you were tired."

Tony ducked his head, his cheeks pink. He glanced behind him at the trees and then back at Gibbs.

"Mr. Gi-Gibbs?"

"Yeah Tony?"

"Th-th-thank you for talking to m-m-me."

Gibbs blinked in surprise then kneeled so he was on the same level as Tony.

"I like talking to you Tony. If you ever need to talk to me about anything, and I mean anything, I want you to call me. Anytime, day or night. If you ever need anything, I will come and help you, no matter what. Do you understand?"

Tony stared at him, wonder and distrust obviously fighting for control. After a long moment, he nodded.

"Good. You still have my card?"

Tony bit his lip and looked down.

"M-my fa-fa-father took it."

Gibbs bit back a growl and pulled another from his wallet.

"Keep this with you. You call me, I'll come. Got it?"

He whispered back so quietly Gibbs had to strain to hear it, but it was there.

"G-got it."

Gibbs smiled gently at the boy who put the card carefully in his pocket, then turned and looked at the trees.

"I sh-should get home Mr. Gi-Gibbs. I'll b-b-be in b-big trouble..."

Tony's voice trailed off and Gibbs' imagination had no problem filling in the blanks of what would happen if Sr. caught Tony sneaking in the house. Putting his hand on Tony's shoulder he looked in the boys eyes.

"Tony, is there something you want to tell me? I can help you."

Tony swallowed hard, his eyes flickering between Gibbs and the trees.

"I have t-t-to g-go Mr. Gibbs."

With a careful ease, he moved out from under Gibbs hand and disappeared into the trees. Gibbs cursed under his breath and took a step towards where the boy had vanished.

If he followed and took the boy from his home, he would have to call social services. And they could send him right back. Gibbs had no proof, just a suspicion. You can't take a child from their home just because you don't like their parents and you have a bad feeling. Other than a bruise on his face, that the boy had a explanation for, he hadn't even seen any injuries. He had nothing that would stand up in a court, nothing to justify the taking of the child from his home.

He sighed and clenched his fists as he turned back to his car.

He needed coffee.

And to open those files.

XxxX

Gibbs pushed open his front door and kicked it shut with crack loud enough to shake the heaven's. Not bothering to stop in his living room or kitchen he made a bee-line to his basement, several thick files and a large coffee in his hands. Dropping everything on his work table he popped the lid of the coffee and stared at the files.

McGee told him the case was solved, they had no reason to look in these files if they didn't want to. The glare he had sent to the younger agent had nearly made the other man lose control of himself. As much as Gibbs hated to admit it though, he knew what he meant, he didn't necessarily want to know what was in these files...but he needed to.

He knew Tony was in trouble.

And Gibbs was going to get him out of it. One way or another.

Taking a deep breath he opened the first file.

…

Two hours later Gibbs compiled everything he found about Anthony Sr.

He was a second generation immigrant from Italy who had inherited his father's business and and turned a small company into a multimillion dollar cooperation using his first wife's money and some less than moral business techniques.

The American dream at its finest.

The FBI had looked into him several times in past couple years for suspected under the table business tactics but nothing had ever stuck.

Speaking of his first wife- he had met Angelica while on a trip to England, and married her less than five months after meeting her. Tony was born only a three months later. That explained the 'whirlwind' romance. More like shot gun wedding.

Angelica had committed suicide right around the time Tony turned six.

After the death of Angelica, the man had remarried three times, his last marriage dissolving only weeks before, until his divorce from Veronica Williams was finalized.

Gibbs snorted in disgust, the woman had been dead less than three years, and he had gained a wife for every one.

From the looks of it, DiNozzo spent most of time chasing younger women, securing business deals, and drinking himself to oblivion in his mansion on a hill.

Tony on his part was a few weeks from turning nine years old, and held dual citizenship between Italy and the US just like his father.

Almost nine years old. You looks like you're six, seven at most. Nine years old and you've already lost your mother, have a fool of a father and you look about as lonely as a kid can be.

Gibbs sighed and ran his hand through his hair, turning back to the files.

There were notes from teachers from Tony's teachers from around the time his mother had died, Gibbs turned the light on them, trying to read the transcripts.

Mr. DiNozzo,

Anthony is an excellent student, he is polite and respectful but is becoming increasingly withdrawn. I am concerned about his home life since the passing of his mother. I would appreciate meeting with you at the soonest possible availability.

Miss David

There was another note, this time sent to the head of the school about contacting social services.

Anthony has come to school several times with numerous bruises, and no explanation. When pressed for reasons, he simply replied that he had an accident with no further elaboration. I am becoming more and more concerned about his physical and emotional state. He no longer participates in class activities, or initiates contact. He will answer if asked a question directly but is very standoffish. He arrived at school this morning with a black eye and still no legitimate reason for the injury. I recommend someone looking into the situation immediately.

Gibbs flipped another piece of paper, within the next week the teacher had been fired after someone had "found" weed in her desk and Tony had been taken from the school to be taught by a private tutor.

No wonder he didn't want to talk about school. His teacher was fired and he was dragged away.

Gibbs turned to another sheet of paper.

A copy of an ER report.

A fractured rib, broken arm, multiple lacerations and contusions. A concussion.

A police report was filed, social services were called and it looked like Tony had spoken to a social worker.

The case had been dismissed.

DiNozzo claimed his son had been disturbed since the death of his mother and had run out into the street, being hit by a car. The doctor, DiNozzo's personal physician who had taken over care of Tony, conformed Tony's injuries matched with a hit and run accident.

Liar.

Gibbs looked away from the papers, fists clenching in anger.

So you lost your mother at the age of six and was left with a b*st*rd of a father. Your teachers try to help and you're taken out of school. Your father sent you to the d*mn emergency room and the police send you right back home. How could they do that? How could they look at that man and accept those half *ssed words? Cops? Men and women who are supposed to serve and protect? How many of those people looked in your face, saw the pain, the fear, the sorrow, the hope that they were going to help you, and then sent you right back to that monster?

No wonder you didn't want to talk to me. You didn't think I would help. I can't imagine what your dad, what that man must have done to you when you were sent back. You look for help from those who are supposed to save you and they do nothing.

Oh Tony.

Gibbs stood and faced his boat, his thoughts running through everything he had seen and heard. He could see the boy in his head, cowering next to the window, his eyes glued to his father, barely able to get the words out. Lies every one of them, but ones he felt were necessary. Experience and let downs had obviously taught him to say what he had to, anything to stay out of trouble.

The thought of someone hurting a child.

The thought of someone hurting his Kelly.

Hurting Tony.

He swallowed back vomit.

Gibbs paced over to the wall, running his hand down his face, his back hit the wall and he slowly slid down it, pulling his phone from his pocket. Not paying attention to the time, he began to dial and listened to it ring again and again. Finally it was picked up and a sleepy Scottish accent greeted him.

"Hello?"

"Duck, it's me."

"Jethro, what can I do for you, at this exceptionally late hour?"

"What would make a child stutter?"

"What?"

"A kid, what would make him stutter?"

The phone was quiet for a moment, he could almost hear the man thinking.

"Well it depends on the age of the child first of all-"

"Eight."

"Eight. Well it could be many number of things Jethro, many children go through a stage of stuttering through the age of 2-6. But millions of grown adults stutter and live happy successful lives. Genetics play a large part in it, and that could be the cause of the child's speech difficulty. A proper speech pathologist can do wonders for a child to help him gain control. It's curious, many times people will stutter around others, but when speaking to themselves or even singing, their voice will be completely normal, not a single hitch. It's quite curious. Did you know that Winston Churchill stuttered? Along with Marlyn Monroe and-"

"Ducky, this isn't normal circumstances. I...think the boy is being abused..."

"Oh... well that changes things Jethro. Fear can be a very powerful motivator and if he is in a constant state of anxiety, the speech problem could be linked to abuse but there is no way to tell for certain without meeting the child and examining him myself."

Gibbs sighed.

"Right. Thanks Duck."

"Of course. May I ask what brought this up Jethro? Do we have a case pertaining to child abuse?"

"Not yet Duck, but we do have a situation. I'm going to handle it."

Gibbs snapped the phone shut and pushed both of his hand through his hair, growling in frustration.

Closing his eyes, Gibbs found he couldn't get away from the sight of bright green eyes wide with fright and pale shaking hands gripping his shirt, searching for a lifeline.

I'm going to get you out of this son, you're not alone anymore.