A/N: Usual disclaimers apply (full disclaimer in profile.)
Chapter 10
By the time Corinne and Tony arrived at his home, Tony was in the throes of a full-blown migraine (an unfortunate side effect of the panic attack.) Bob helped her get Tony inside, nearly carrying the younger man to his bedroom. Corinne pulled the shades then injected the medication that would ease his pain. She slipped quietly from the room and went downstairs to chat with Bob and Mary Pat, knowing that the meds would knock Tony out for several hours.
"What brought it on this time?" asked Mary Pat. She knew that the migraines only occurred when Tony was under a lot of stress or if he . . ."Oh, Lord, he didn't have a seizure did he?"
"Not this time, thank God. He had a panic attack, though, then he passed out. He seemed to be okay afterwards, just a little embarrassed. I had no idea that he was hurting until we were almost home. I should kick his ass for not saying something sooner – I had his meds with me. "
"What caused the panic attack? He hasn't had one in months – I was hoping that he was over that."
Corinne sighed and began to relate the events of the day, from the good news at the doctor's office to Tony's confrontation with Gibbs. She noticed how Mary Pat frowned when Gibbs was mentioned.
"Surely Tony isn't going to forgive that bastard! Or that so-called team either, for that matter! After the way they treated him, how could he even consider . . ."
"Mary Pat," Corinne interrupted gently, "he misses them. He wants to try to rebuild his relationship with them. He needs them, and after spending time with them today, I think they need him, too."
"He forgives too easily! They hurt him, Corinne, they hurt my boy. He may be able to forgive, but I don't know if I can."
"I know how you feel, Mary Pat, but don't you see – if you reject his friends, then you are going to hurt him. It won't be easy – I know you think of Tony as your son - but if you love him, you'll accept his decision to let them back into his life – even Gibbs."
Bob had remained silent throughout the conversation, but now he spoke up, "He is our son, maybe not by blood, but he is ours. I'm with Mary Pat – I don't like it one bit. For Tony, though, I'll give them a chance. But if they hurt him again, God help them – especially Gibbs."
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Gibbs went down to his basement, hoping to find solace in his boat, but to no avail. His mind was now filled with images – Tony in the basement, Tony in his kitchen, Tony on his sofa watching a movie, Tony in his bed. He grabbed a jar and poured a healthy shot of bourbon but didn't drink it. He didn't want to dull his senses with alcohol, as had become his wont. This was a time for clarity. Were these true memories or fantasies? Wait – why would he be fantasizing about Tony? They were both straight, weren't they?
It was so messed up. Were these feelings real? Could he have really been in a sexual – even romantic – relationship with a man, with Tony? There was only one way to find out. Heading up the stairs, he was very glad that he hadn't had that drink. He was going to Middleburg.
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Tony woke up in total darkness and almost panicked before realizing that the lights were off and the shades drawn in deference to his migraine (at least he hoped that's what it was.) He sat up carefully, thankful that the excruciating pain from earlier had been replaced by a dull residual headache. Opening the crystal of his watch, he checked the time and found that he had lost about 4 hours. He vaguely remembered getting home and Bob almost carrying him up the stairs and to the bedroom. He assumed that Corinne or Mary Pat had given him his meds. He probably should have told Corinne that he felt the migraine coming on after the panic attack – she was going to give him a very hard time for that.
His bladder was telling him it was time to get up, so he slowly stood, grabbing on to the bedpost when he was hit with slight wave of dizziness. After a moment he made his way to the bathroom and took care of business. He went back to the bedroom, really wanting to crawl back under the covers and go back to sleep, but knowing that he really needed to eat something so he could take some more meds.
Tony left his room, wincing as the little bit of light that he could see kicked the headache up another notch. He walked carefully down the stairs, following his nose to the kitchen. Unsurprisingly, Mary Pat had been cooking, and it smelled like chicken and dumplings. When she heard Tony come in, she immediately went to him and wrapped him in a hug. "Feeling better?" she asked, leading him to the table. "I made your favorite – I hope you feel like eating."
"Headache's almost gone," Tony answered, "but I could use a couple of Tylenol. And I suppose I could force myself to eat a little – that is chicken and dumplings I smell, isn't it?"
"You know it is. Now here's your Tylenol and your water. I'll get your dumplings. Do you want something else to drink?"
"No, water's fine." He took the Tylenol and took an appreciative whiff of the bowl of dumplings Mary Pat placed before him. She told him where everything was placed on the table then turned to the sink. Tony loved the fact that she didn't hover over him, allowing him as much independence as he wanted, but there at a moment's notice if he needed help.
That had probably been the hardest thing to deal with in his recovery. Tony had always been fiercely independent. Then suddenly, he had to rely on someone else to help him with even the smallest task. He had come a long way, learning how to do all of those things that he had taken for granted – eating, getting dressed, even bathing and grooming himself. It didn't hurt that he had enough money to buy any of the latest technology available to assist in his adjustment to his new life, but the tech was no substitute for the support of his friends. He had learned that there was no shame in needing or asking for help, and he knew he was blessed to have such a strong support network. He smiled, realizing that he had now (hopefully) added Tim, Ziva and Abby to the group – and maybe someday, Gibbs. Feeling a peace that had evaded him for a long time, Tony finished his dinner and went upstairs to take a shower. He had the beginnings of a new song running around his brain and he wanted to get to the studio to record it before it got away from him.
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Gibbs felt a sense of déjà vu as he drove down the long driveway, a feeling that grew stronger when he saw the house. He knew that he had been there before but he couldn't quite grasp the details. He parked the car and got out, trying desperately to remember. He was startled by a less-than-friendly voice that asked bluntly, "What the hell are you doing here?"
Gibbs turned. The man who asked the question was tall, obviously ex-military, and vaguely familiar. "I'm looking for Tony DiNozzo," he said. Then, hesitantly, he asked, "I've been here before, haven't I?"
The other man's glare softened minutely. "Yeah, several times. God, you really don't remember, do you? I'm Bob Henderson. My wife Mary Pat and I take care of this place for Tony. Well, I take care of the horses and she takes care of him."
Gibbs shook his head in frustration. "I'm trying to remember. I need to remember – it's like it's right there and I just can't grasp it."
"Look, I can't say that I understand everything that you're going through. But before I let you see Tony, there are some things that you need to understand." Bob ran his hand through his hair before continuing. "I got out of the military about ten years ago. I wasn't really planning to, but . . .my son. . . he followed his dad's footsteps, joined the Corps right out of high school. He was killed in combat and my wife, Mary Pat, she just fell apart. He was our only child, the only one Mary Pat was able to carry full term, and losing him almost destroyed her. So I got out of the Corps and decided to buy a horse farm. We found this place but the owner wouldn't sell it. Instead, he offered me a partnership. I wasn't sure, but when Mary Pat met him, she smiled for the first time since we lost Derek." Bob paused again. "I'm telling you this so you can understand – Tony isn't just my business partner, he is my son. And if you hurt my son again, there is no place on earth you can hide. Got it?"
Gibbs nodded, knowing from the expression on Bob's face that the other man was dead serious. "There are still some things – a lot of things – I don't remember, but lately I've been getting flashes of things, events that just don't make sense. I can't figure out if they're real memories or . . . hell, I don't know. I just know that I need to talk to Tony, to find out if any of those things really happened."
"And what if the memories are real, Gibbs? What then?"
"I don't know. But I need answers and the only one that has 'em is Tony."
Bob sighed. "I'm going to let you see him, but let me talk to Mary Pat first. She might try to kill you if you walk in unannounced. Give me a minute." Bob walked inside and a few minutes later came back out and said, "She's not happy but she said she wouldn't kill you – yet. I'm going to take you to Tony, but if he tells you to go, you're out of here. And don't bother coming back."
Gibbs nodded. It seemed like he was doing a lot of that. "Thank you. I promise I won't do anything to hurt him. I just need to know."
"Come on then," Bob said and headed for the door. Gibbs followed, steering clear of the small woman in the kitchen who was glaring daggers at him. They went down a flight of stairs and Gibbs heard the sounds of a piano. And he froze as the sounds of the music triggered a flood of memories that literally dropped him to his knees.
TBC
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