When Tony awoke, he was lying in a hospital bed. He could heard a faint beeping in the background, most likely coming from a heart monitor. He glanced down at his arm, which was hooked up to multiple tubes and needles. He felt like one of those elderly hundred-year-old men who lay on their death beds on life support. It wasn't until that moment that he noticed the other presence in the room. Over in the corner was McGee, sleeping in a plastic chair. His head was tilted back, and a small line of drool was threatening to fall down his chin. Tony didn't want to wake him, but when he tried shifting positions he let out a small groan, causing McGee to jolt out of his light slumber. Noticing that Tony was awake, he whipped out his cell phone and called Gibbs, alerting him of Tony's newly-conscious state.
"W-What happened?" Tony asked, still half-asleep.
"Well uh… you collapsed at the scene after receiving a phone call." McGee stammered, surprised to hear Tony's voice for the first time in the past six days. That was probably the longest Tony has ever gone with out talking in his life.
"Oh… right." Tony said, looking down at the edge of the sheet that he was intertwining in his fingers. The phone call was coming right back to him. The chilling words of his cousin. His father was being let out. Minimal charges. Next week. He paused for a moment, then asked, "McGee, how many days have I been out?"
"Uh, about six days Tony. Seven in a few hours."
Tony froze in fear. It was next week. His father could be out of prison right now for all he knew.
Several minutes of silence followed, neither agent knowing what to say. When Gibbs walked in after a few more minutes, McGee stood and said goodbye to Tony, then left the hospital room. After several more minutes of silence, Gibbs said, "You're free to go home today. You're coming back to my place."
"But Gibbs--" Tony began to protest.
"No buts. Stop by your place first and grab clothes, and be at my place by 1100."
"Ok, boss." Tony said as Gibbs walked out. He surveyed the room, finding what he was looking for on another plastic visitors chair similar to the one McGee had fallen asleep on. Clothes. It was a pair of jeans, a blue collared shirt, boxers, socks, and his weekend-sneakers placed on top.
After getting dressed, he grabbed his keys and wallet off of the counter by the bed and signed out, heading for the hospital parking lot. He felt some what tired, but ignored it and got into his car, heading back to his apartment to get clothes.
When he pulled up in front of his apartment complex, his heart rate sped up. If his father was out already, where would he be? Would he be waiting in his apartment? Or maybe even at Gibbs' house? He shook off these thoughts and entered the building, taking caution to look over his shoulder.
The walk up to his apartment level was uneventful, but he still wasn't letting his guard down. He tried to make as little noise as possible when digging through his pocket for his keys, and the process of unlocking the door was endless. However, when he opened the door with a creak, his apartment looked empty and untouched. Not one thing was out of place. He breathed a sigh of relief and walked over to his couch, dropping his cell phone, keys, and wallet down onto the coffee table. The couch felt soft and inviting on his soar body, but he knew he had to be at Gibbs' house in less than a half hour, so he began to ease himself back up. That is, until he felt a strong hand clamp down on his shoulder. It squeezed tight. Tony could almost feel his collar bone crack at the pressure of the crushing hand. It didn't take a wild guess to know whose hand it was.
"Hello, Junior." A voice came from behind him, the cold hardness matching the feeling of the hand on his shoulder.
Tony felt the room drop three degrees. (Most likely the temperature from his father's heart radiating through the room.)
"Hi… dad…" Tony answered in a small voice, trying his best to mask any fear.
Mr. DiNozzo's Italian accent was so strong it nearly made his voice illegible, but Tony had grown used to it and could mainly understand what his father was saying. It didn't matter anyway, however, because his father didn't say another word. He simply gripped harder on his shoulder and pulled him over the back of the couch, making Tony slam against the hard wood floor in front of his father's feet. His breathing immediately grew ragged; on account of his scarred lungs from his pneumonic plague battle. His father obviously didn't care, because he drew back his Italian-leather-shoe encased foot and brought it down in between Tony's ribs. Tony groaned and clutched at his ribcage, feeling the broken bone grounded against itself. Mr. DiNozzo only laughed maniacally and grabbed Tony with both hands by the collar of his shirt, hoisting him up to a standing position. Tony tried to take a swing at his father, but due to his dizzy and aching state he was easily over taken by the strong Italian man and thrown across the room into the wall.
The next fifteen minutes was an on slot of punches, kicks, and being flung to various parts of the room. His father surprised him when he pulled out a switch knife and flicked it open, wagging it dangerously in front of him. Tony tried his hardest to push himself up and back into a corner, trying to stay away from the gleaming weapon in his father's hand. DiNozzo Senior came forward, holding the knife forward in warning. Tony stopped moving and clumped against the wall, panting heavily. He closed his eyes right before he felt the sharp blade make contact with his left shoulder, causing him to clench his teeth and let out a struggled hiss of pain. He tried to open his eyes, but when he heard his father running out of the apartment and slamming the door, he decided it wasn't worth it and allowed the beckoning darkness to consume him. Pretty soon he was unconscious in the corner of his apartment, unaware of anything other than the shooting pain and struggle to breathe.
Gibbs was in his basement, keeping close eye on the clock. It was already 1130 and Tony hadn't shown up yet. There was a decent sized chance that he was simply running late or fell asleep on his couch, but Gibbs couldn't ignore the feeling in his gut that something wasn't right. Tony followed all of his orders to the T, always trying to impress him. He looked from the clock to the door at the top of the stairs, then back at the clock again. 1134. He grabbed his cell phone off of the work bench and flipped it open, dialing Tony's number.
Tony heard his phone ringing somewhere in the distance. He tried to pull himself out of unconsciousness long enough to reach for his phone, but failed soon after and slipped back into the dark.
Gibbs flipped his cell phone shut after hearing the first word of Tony's voicemail. He grabbed his car keys and ran up the stairs, heading to his car. After speeding to Tony's apartment, he ran past the front desk, ignoring the managers offer of assistance. He knew Tony's apartment floor and number by heart, and took the stairs to get there.
The door was locked, but he had a key that Tony had given him years ago. After he unlocked the door, he pushed it open slowly. The apartment was dark. He flicked on the light switch, only to reveal his worst fear. Tony was slumped in the corner of the living room, battered and bloody. His eyes were closed, and his arm was extended as if he had tried to reach for something. Probably his phone, since it was lying on the ground inches in front of his hand. On the screen it said "One Missed Call: Gibbs". Gibbs knelt down next to Tony, shaking his shoulder gently.
"Tony, come one Tony, wake up." Gibbs whispered to his agent.
Tony stirred and opened his eyes slightly.
"Gibbs…" he said before allowing his head to flop back down and his eyes to shut.
"Tony, are you hurt badly? Do you need to go to the hospital?" Gibbs asked, knowing full-well that Tony would refuse hospital care.
"No… boss… I'm fine…" he said and started pushing himself up. Gibbs put his arm around Tony's waist and placed Tony's arm over his own shoulders. In that stance, he helped Tony limp over to the door and into the elevator.
"Tony, you need to go to the hospital." Gibbs said to Tony.
As bad as Tony felt, he knew that he didn't need the hospital.
"No, Gibbs. I'll be fine…" Tony said in a weak voice as the elevator doors opened.
Gibbs really wanted to get Tony medical care, but he needed a story first. So he reluctantly agreed to take him back to his house.
The car ride to Gibbs' house was silent, mostly because Tony had fallen asleep the second Gibbs put him in the front seat. When they were there, he got out and circled to Tony's door, helping him out and into the house. Once Tony was seated on Gibbs' couch, Gibbs sat across from him in an arm chair and waited to see if Tony would explain.
When it was clear that Tony wasn't going to talk, Gibbs asked, "Who?"
Tony looked at his bruised hands and stayed silent. This was something from his past that he hadn't wanted exposed. Not now, not ever. The knife cut on his arm was beginning to sting as if rubbed against his shirt.
Gibbs seamed to notice Tony's discomfort and said, "Deep six the shirt Tony. It'll make it feel batter."
Tony did as he was told and unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it off slowly to avoid any painful contact between it and his injuries.
Gibbs tried to suppress the gasp that built up in his throat when Tony took off his shirt. He was a well-sculpted young man, but his chest was marred with raising bruises and red patches of dried blood. His shoulder was the worst. It had a long gash running from his collar bone to his upper bicep muscle, likely made from a knife.
Tony kept his eyes cast down, rather than at Gibbs' face. He knew he wanted an explanation, but he still didn't want to talk about it. DiNozzo's don't like to air out their dirty laundry.
"Tony, you're gonna' have to talk to me sometime so I suggest you do it now." Gibbs growled, trying his best to sound kind. But it was difficult, considering the anger he felt towards whoever it was who did this to his senior field agent.
His son.
He knew it was true, but ever since Shannon and Kelly died he had trouble becoming attached to anyone. That would explain the three ex-wives. Deep down, he loved Tony like a son. And he knew it, he just had trouble expressing it.
"I know." Tony answered quietly, breaking Gibbs from his thoughts.
Gibbs gave him a look telling him to elaborate. When he didn't, he probed, "Who did this, Tony?"
"My—" Tony began.
Gibbs titled his head forward, signaling to Tony that it was alright to continue.
Tony took a deep breath and said, "My father. He did it. My cousin Joseph called the other day at the crime scene. He said my father was being let off early with minimal charges. Wouldn't explain why. When I came home today, there he was."
Gibbs' mouth was open, unable to comprehend what his agent was telling him. He knew Tony's father was a bastard. He had found that out months ago when he had first encountered Mr. DiNozzo. And the emails. The horrible emails to Mr. Langston. But this was ten times worse, because this wasn't just having some one else beat your kid. This was his own father, harming him intentionally. For no reason. This couldn't have been the first time either. Things like these weren't just spur of the moment. They had a pattern.
"Tony, did your father hurt you when you were a kid, too?" Gibbs asked, already knowing the answer.
Tony put his head in his hands for a moment, then looked up at Gibbs and said, "Yeah."
Gibbs was about to say something else when Tony lost it. All of his pent-up anger was finally released, causing Tony to go completely off-the-wall.
"He always has! He told me I was worthless! That I'd end up in the gutter! All my friends, they always were talking about how their parents would take them to movies and out for ice cream and all that other parental crap. My dad didn't give a damn about me!" He was screaming now. "ALL HE EVER CARED ABOUT WAS HIS MONEY AND HIS CURRENT WIFE! I TRIED TELLING SOMEONE ONCE, TOO! BUT DID THEY CARE? NO! THEY THOUGHT I WAS LYING! AFTER ALL, THE SON OF WORLD-FAMOUS ANTHONY DINOZZO SENIOR WOULD NEVER BE ABUSED! IT DIDN'T WORK LIKE THAT!"
Tony stood from his position on the couch, ignoring the screaming pain in his entire body. He was furious now. Pain didn't matter anymore.
"WHAT DID I EVER DO TO HIM? THAT'S WHAT I WANT TO KNOW! WHY DIDN'T I DESERVE HIS LOVE, YOU MAY ASK? BECAUSE HE DIDN'T HAVE ANY LOVE TO GIVE! THE FEELING OF LOVE WAS SUCKED OUT OF HIS PATHETIC BODY AT A YOUNG AGE! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT HE DID TO ME!" Tony screams ended then, and he dropped back down onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. He wouldn't cry again, he had already done that in front of Gibbs. He wouldn't do it again.
"What did he do to you, Tony?" Gibbs asked in a soft voice.
Tony took a deep breath and prepared himself to dive into the dark universe of his past.
"It's been going on since I was about… three… I think…"
A/N: I was going to have the whole big heart warming conversation in this chapter, but I decided to be evil and make you wait. :)
Thank you all for your amazing reviews and I hope you review this chapter as well! And please check out my newest story, Boys Are Concrete Angels Too, based on the song Concrete Angel by Martina McBride. I have already had several reviews and PM's telling me that the story made them cry. Its about Tony abuse, of course.
Thanks again for reading and please review!
-AgentDiNozzo13