WARNING: To reiterate, most of this story will center on the subject of child abuse and Tony's past. About 90 percent of this takes place between Gibbs and DiNozzo with a couple of smaller flashbacks to set up the next chapter which will be completely in the past.

Chapter 10 – Turning the Tide

GIBBS: They were caught in crossfire.

McGEE: Whoa, whoa, Boss. Boss. You don't, you don't think they're…well should we put divers in the water, or?

GIBBS: They're not in the water. McGee, if they were in the water they'd be dead. If they were dead, I'd know about it. They're not dead.
~ 3x12 - Boxed In

The last time Tony had felt this groggy and unwilling to force his eyelids open, he'd been coming out of anesthesia after being shot in Baltimore his first month on the job. He stilled his breath and focused on his other senses. His mouth felt like someone had stuffed cotton balls in it, but he couldn't hear any beeping and he couldn't smell any antiseptic. Not in a hospital then. The mattress underneath him and the pillow that he was currently smashing his face into didn't feel like his bed at home. There wasn't anyone sharing the bed with him. But he didn't hurt. That afforded him the smallest of comforts – he could believe that he was relatively safe wherever he was. Sleep was pulling at the edges of his consciousness again, and Tony was tempted to give in – at least for a few more hours.

He forced himself to roll off of his stomach and cracked an eye open to take in his surroundings. For the life of him, Tony couldn't remember how he'd ended up back in Gibbs' spare room – and he was resolutely ignoring the headache that suggested too much alcohol. The fact that the numbers on the alarm clock were all blurring together into one big red smear across the readout wasn't nearly as disconcerting as how dark it was in the room. He vaguely remembered being sent to bed at one point, but also remembered how well that had worked out. Tony knew he'd gotten up after that.

And then it all came crashing down on him again. His knuckles were sore from when he'd punched Gibbs, and it was all he could do not to bury his head back under the pillows. Maybe he could will himself to disappear.

"You going to sleep another eighteen hours, or are you about ready to roll your ass out of bed?" The smell of coffee hit Tony's nostrils a second before he heard the creek of floorboards outside the door. Gibbs' gruff voice pushed the last bit of sleep from his mind.

"Do I even want to know what time it is?" Tony was surprised at how rough his own voice sounded and how raw his throat felt.

"It's just past ten."

Tony furrowed his brow and picked his head up long enough to shoot the window – and then Gibbs – a confused look.

"Ten at night, DiNozzo. You've been out all day." Gibbs would have let him keep on sleeping if he hadn't begun to ponder – ponder, not worry about – whether or not he should force some food on the young man. The movement from the guest room had helped the decision along some and he took advantage of Tony's brief bout of consciousness.

Tony groaned and rubbed a hand down his face as he contemplated Gibbs' earlier question. He really was tempted to roll back over and fall back to sleep. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept that long uninterrupted.

The growl that broke the silence startled Tony and he resisted the urge to stare down at his stomach in disbelief.

"Let me rephrase that, DiNozzo. Get your ass out of bed. Now." Gibbs hid a pleased smile at the way Tony fell in line at the order – the ex-cop was shaping up to be an excellent second-in-command.

~*~

Tony let the hot water course over his head as he let his arms hold up his weight against the shower wall. It took far too much effort to even lift his head for the moment and all he wanted to do was resurrect the walls that had come crumbling down the night before. He'd never meant to let it get that far. He'd never meant to burden Gibbs with all of his demons. It was like he hadn't had any control over what he'd said. Tony wondered absently if this was what the suspects that Gibbs broke in interrogation felt like after they confessed.

DiNozzo let out a breath and scrubbed at his face. He'd been looking after himself for the better part of his life and it was irking him to think that in the past twenty-four hours he'd seen that change. Tony had been ten years old when he'd realized that no one else was going to take the time to make sure he wasn't dead on the street somewhere.

~*~

Tony didn't know where he was. He had woken up cold and alone on the floor and he had no idea how he'd gotten there. Everyone was gone and no matter how loudly he called out now, no one came to answer him. To say the boy was frightened was an understatement. Hugging himself tightly to ward off the cold and darkness, Tony began to pace along the walls and listened to his bare feet padding on the cold concrete. When he had circled the entire room, the boy sank back down to cower in the corner and struggled to keep the tears from falling. The only way out was at the top of the stairs and every time he tried to climb them, Tony found himself stumbling backwards away from sharp, shooting pain.

Not one to give up easily, Tony refused to allow himself much time curled in the corner before he pulled himself to his feet and paced the room again. If there was no one coming for him, then he'd have to find his way out alone. This time as he explored the room he was locked in, Tony ran his hand along the wall and made his way around the room. He stopped abruptly when he heard the quietest of calls. The little boy would recognize that voice and the smell of lilac and vanilla anywhere. Tony spun around just in time to see Marie calling for him from the top of the stairs.

"Come on, Tony. It's safe now, Baby. I promise. Let's get you out of here."

Warily, Tony reached out for the railing and mounted the first step as intense tremors coursed through his entire body. The searing pain that greeted him last time was absent and it was all the encouragement he needed to bolt up the remaining stairs. Tony had thrown himself into his old caretaker's arms, burying his head into her neck as he drank in the comfort only Marie could provide.

"I missed you, Marie. I'm so sorry that…" Tony trailed off from apologizing for killing her as he was pulled roughly from her arms. The smell of strawberries provided little solace as he struggled out of his mother's arms to get back to Marie. He didn't care that he was a DiNozzo and not 'some housekeeper's brat'. He didn't want the money and everything else he'd been told was all worth it. None of it mattered if it meant he could stay with Marie. It was only when he raised his head to meet Marie's eyes that he stopped fighting.

The bloody visage that greeted him stole Tony's breath threatened to test the limits of his lungs as the woman who had once soothed his hurts now reached out to him in anger as she morphed into the dragon-bear from the basement. The boy turned to hide in his mother's embrace and found himself falling back down the stairs. When he hit the bottom, Tony scurried as quickly as he could into a corner. The dragon-bear was still coming after him. But now it had Marie's voice. She blamed him for killing her, and as the creature reached his mother, the two turned on him.

~*~

Ten-year old Tony DiNozzo threw himself away from his pillow so violently that he was all the way up on his hands and knees before his eyes were even open. Sobs wracked through his frame as he bit his lip to keep the scream from erupting. The tears that dripped down his cheeks stung at his eyes and he scrubbed at them angrily. He had no right to be that weak, but every time he closed his eyes against the salty liquid, Marie's bloody face assaulted his senses and started him anew. He groped through the covers for Vinnie's teddy bear as he heard a sharp laugh by the door to his room. Tony's head shot up and around to ward against the newest threat when he noticed his father staring at him from the room's threshold. It was clear from the man's relaxed stance against the frame that he had been standing there for quite some time, his arms crossed on his chest as he shook his head in utter disappointment. Hope long thought beaten and squashed beneath fear of punishment died a little more when his father simply turned his back and walked away, leaving Tony to wallow in his weakness.

The boy dropped his chin to his chest as the bedroom door slammed shut and pulled himself gingerly down the ladder. Every day since his mother had died brought about a new meaning to the word pain, and Tony was surprised he could still make the climb up and down every day. The bear he had been searching for was on the ground next to Vinnie's bed and as Tony bent down to retrieve the only comfort he had left, the pain lancing across his shoulders intensified and sent him to his knees once more.

No strength left to do anything more than cram himself into the space between the bed and the wall, Tony clutched the bear as tightly as he could and sobbed into the ratty fur. He only moved once, hours later, to rest his head back against the wall and relieve the stretch across his back. The small boy's tears glistened in the moonlight as they continued to streak down his face and drip off his chin. He didn't move again until long after the sun had risen and the tear tracks had dried in his sleep.

~*~

Tony felt the tile crack under his knuckles as the helplessness he'd felt as a child bubbled over into anger and subconscious reaction. He watched in almost morbid fascination as blood dripped down his hand mixed with water. It took him a few seconds to recognize what he'd done and a few more to realize that he'd heard Gibbs shout his name from the other side of the door.

"I'm…good, Boss." The words sounded like the evasion that they were, but Tony had never been more pleased to hear the man grumbling as his footsteps took him away from the door. Only when Tony turned back to survey the damage his repeated blows to the wall had done did he see the telltale marks of Gibbs having done the exact same thing.

~*~

The sound of the shower still running allowed Gibbs the security and privacy to let some of his anger bleed through at the bleak look that even almost a whole days' sleep hadn't quite banished. That, coupled with the sound of breaking tile and the possibly shattering bone that he had envisioned, proved that one night's breakdown wasn't nearly enough to fix everything. He'd only had two years so far to combat a lifetime of Tony's insecurities. The man didn't hope for nor expect a miracle, but the progress that had come from Tony's breakdown the night before had been a start.

As Gibbs reached for a seldom-used box of tea that he knew DiNozzo preferred over coffee, he felt a slight twinge in his back from pulled muscles. He'd known from past experience that Tony was a nightmare as dead weight. After the young man finally exhausted himself to the point that he'd been nearly unconscious, the task of getting him up the stairs and into the guest room had been mostly Gibbs shouldering all of his weight and a less than half-hearted attempt from Tony to help. The young man was barely functioning well enough to keep his feet under him from the combination of far too much alcohol and emotional stress. He'd finally managed to get Tony into the bed and under blankets when he'd heard the barely mumbled, "thanks, Boss". It had been more than enough to prove that it was worth it.

Gibbs heard the water turn off and then listened to Tony stumbling around down the hall. He schooled his emotions back under the guise of disinterest. He was toeing a fine line here, one that he'd made the mistake of overstepping before. Gibbs had tried to tell Tony that he understood where the young man was coming from and Tony's walls had rebuilt so fast, the Marine was almost positive he could actually see them being erected. He was loathe to ever make that mistake again.

He had just managed to pour Tony's tea with a grimace – who drank tea over coffee anyway – and set out a plate full of French toast when he was finally graced with a slightly more awake senior field agent. DiNozzo was running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to dry it as he cracked a hesitant smile at the cup of tea waiting for him. Gibbs watched the young man eye the plate of food as if it might bite him before settling in at the table. Tony's right hand was surreptitiously held behind him until it could be hidden out of sight as he sat.

Tony poked at the breakfast food for a few minutes before his stomach growled loudly in protest at being denied the meal in front of him. He took a first tentative bite before almost grinning in appreciation of the sweet taste and digging in.

DiNozzo had finished almost the entire plate of food before he realized Gibbs was smirking at him. He had the presence of mind to look chagrined at the speed with which he'd devoured the French toast before defending himself with a "guess I was hungrier than I thought."

"Well yeah, DiNozzo. Not eating in over twenty-four hours will do that to you." Gibbs shook his head before his expression changed. "You about ready to show me that hand?"

Tony's ears turned an even deeper shade of red as he warred with himself over what to say. He'd pay for the tiles; that wasn't a problem. But how did you apologize to someone who refused to listen to them?

"Don't move. I'll be right back." Gibbs cut him off before he could even start. The older man was halfway out of the room before he added, "and don't think you're getting away with breaking that tile. I expect you to fix it."

Tony knew that was the last they'd speak about it.

~*~

DiNozzo was picking at the white gauze covering his knuckles when Gibbs' patience wore out. The young man had been sitting silently at the table for over a half an hour and hadn't so much as breathed loudly. The look on his face, however, was switching rapidly back and forth between closed off and defensive and open and vulnerable.

"There's more, isn't there?" Gibbs' voice was quiet as it didn't take a genius to read the reluctance on Tony's face. He wasn't entirely sure how much he should push when DiNozzo was this exhausted, this far out of his element. The sick feeling of voyeurism was creeping in on his gut again, and it was all he could do to push it aside. If it meant getting to the bottom of all of this, then he would force himself to deal with it.

But he wouldn't force Tony to share. It had to be the younger man's decision.

"Look, you're half-dead on your feet. I'll be downstairs. Get your head on straight and then either get some more sleep or come on down. Either way. All right?" The look in Tony's eyes hinted to Gibbs that it was going to be another long night.

~*~

"I had that nightmare about Marie and my mother for years after that. It made living at boarding school an interesting experience, that's for sure." It hadn't taken long for DiNozzo to follow Gibbs down to the basement and perch on the bench again. Tony had dropped his feet to swing off the work bench and they tapped out a staccato beat as his elbows rested on his knees. The coffee mug tipped precariously in lax fingers as his chin dropped to his chest. Clearly the exhaustion that had forced his body to shut down for eighteen hours already wasn't willing to retreat quite yet. Tony was about ready to drop again.

Gibbs wouldn't be surprised if the young man's eyes were suspiciously bright as he fought to stop more tears from flowing. To say the younger agent was completely off-kilter would be an understatement. Usually, Gibbs knew it would take far more than this to worm through the usually Fort Knox worthy defenses. After last night, however, Tony was on the verge of losing the battle over his father's neglect. It was something Tony had never had the privilege of learning as a child – 'never be ashamed of tears, Bud'. Gibbs remembered telling that to Billy Fuentes - the son of a dead paratrooper - earlier in the year.

He couldn't imagine knowing that Kelly was having a nightmare and doing nothing to stop it. Couldn't imagine just watching her writhe in her bed and getting some sort of satisfaction from it. He understood grief, could empathize with those experiencing it – even if he tried his damnedest to bury it so far down that not even his closest friends knew about it. But to ultimately turn your back on all you had left of a life completely and utterly destroyed? Gibbs may be a self-proclaimed bastard, but even that was beyond his comprehension.

"My mother dying was the last straw. For him and for me. It had been a long time since she had spent any real length of time sober, but I could still remember how she was before…before it all. When she…died, there was nothing left for me there. And there was no one left that my father ever really loved. He threw himself so completely into his work that I'm pretty sure he forgot I existed unless he'd had a bad day at the office. That was when I used to really bait him into realizing that I was there. I didn't much care what he did to me by that point. In my head it was my way of winning. He could hit me all he wanted, but it meant that he had to acknowledge me."

~*~

The slamming of the front door was the only sound that alerted Tony of his father's presence in the house. He hadn't seen the man or his newest wife in over a week and knew that tonight would be more of the same. There was no business function to attend; none of his father's associates were meeting with him to go over the books, no reason for the man to put on an act. The new house was big enough that unless Tony went looking for him, the two would pass through yet another night in solitude. Most nights that suited the boy just fine. There was no reason to experience his father's increasing creativity in how to get his lessons across. In the two years since his mother had died, the DiNozzo men had moved four times – each one coinciding with yet another failed marriage. Tony didn't even bother to learn their names anymore.

One of the staff would summon him for dinner after his father had eaten, or he would eat in the kitchen with them. His school clothes were laid out by one of the housekeepers. He was driven to school before his father left for work and expected to wait outside the front gate at the end of his day to be picked up. Other than that, Tony was on his own when he wasn't expected to be with his tutor or attending a business dinner to cement his place as heir to the DiNozzo fortune. Once every other Saturday he was required to accompany his father to work and spend the day learning his future. Tony dreaded those days most of all.

But today was different. His school was sponsoring a youth basketball league on Saturday afternoons and one of the teachers had noticed Tony playing in gym class. The man had spoken to the boy at length about the league and given him a permission slip and flyer for his father. Memories of Cub Scouts and his father's first lesson rung dimly in the back of his mind, but it hadn't taken Tony long to realize that whether or not he followed his father's ever-changing guidelines, the outcome would be the same. At the very least, he was going to try and get permission to play with his friends again. It wasn't like he would be taking time away from being with his father.

The boy changed out of his brother's tee-shirt into one of his older button down shirts, just in case. If his father was in a bad mood, risking this foray into his office would end up in a lesson and the Oxford shirts were much easier to don than trying to pull cotton down over his back. He took the two papers and carefully made his way down to find his father.

~*~

The man he sought was sitting at his desk with a tumbler full of rich amber liquid in his hand. The scowl on his face as he looked over the latest set of papers was deepening even further as Tony stood between the oversized chairs. Despite the growing thought that this was going to be a bad idea, the boy was determined. He also had an idea that to turn around and leave now would be just as bad as waiting his father out. Enough of his lessons centered on how weak and useless the boy was, on how he needed to learn persistence. Tony didn't want to give his father any more fuel.

He wasn't sure how long he waited before he realized that he had been tapping his foot and biting his lip. He tried to stop fidgeting and only succeeded in changing the tempo he was beating out. His father hadn't so much as made eye contact with him, but the suffering sigh that escaped the man's lips assured the boy that he wasn't invisible. Instantly at the sound, Tony stilled and looked up expectantly. His father simply returned to his paperwork and continued ignoring the boy in front of him.

Tony waited until his patience had run thin and even then did little more than start rocking back and forth on his heels. He was silent the entire time, waiting his turn and hoping that his father would take this as a sign that he was learning to 'be persistent for what he wanted'. It wasn't until his father got up and began walking towards the door that the boy finally spoke up.

"Father? Do you have a minute?" Tony stepped in front of the man and blocked his path. A move like this would either garner some semblance of momentary respect or get him knocked to the ground. Either way, he had to be acknowledged somehow.

Tony was surprised when his father turned back to his intercom. When he was answered, the statement threatened to bring tears.

"There's a problem in my study. Please come and deal with it immediately." The detached way in which the man spoke suggested that it was unimportant and cut Tony closer to the quick than any punishment ever would.

"Please, sir. I just need you to sign this for school. Then I'll go. You didn't have to call him." Tony held out the permission slip hesitantly.

In response, his father simply turned and poured himself a healthy measure of his favorite scotch. Tony knew that no matter what he did now wouldn't change the outcome and took a chance. After all, his father often spoke about taking chances with the market to increase his net worth. Maybe this was what he meant.

The boy picked up a pen from the desk and padded over to his father. He lay the slip down on the bar and held the pen out expectantly. He could see the way his hands trembled in anticipation of what was to come, but his face was resolute. Tony's father glanced down once at him and something sparked in the man's eyes.

The door opened and whatever progress the boy may have made with his father was gone. They both turned to see the head of security enter the room and nod his understanding. Tony bowed his head in defeat and moved over to the chair, pulling his shirt over his head as he did so.

"Make sure the little bastard learns his lesson and learns it well. I don't want the worthless brat to ever forget his place in this household. Call me when you're done if I need to phone his physician."

~~**~~