The rest of the journey had continued in silence. Despite his dad's apology Tony couldn't help but think back on how he had previously behaved to his father and how that would have been dealt with back when he was a child. Using the 'f' word which he and his mates at school had thought was grown up and sophisticated was anything but that when he had accidentally let it slip out when he and Dwayne Benning had been playing a little one on one on the front yard and Dwayne had barged him into a thorn bush. Made worse when Kelly, who had been 4 at the time, had heard it and kept asking what it meant and saying it over and over until both of them, child and teenager had found themselves stood in the same corner with a sore backside and the taste of soap still floating around their tonsils. Kelly holding his hand tightly as she let the tears trickle down her face.
"What you thinking Tony?" asked Gibbs as they pulled onto the drive.
"About that first time you caught me swearing and Kelly copied me," he replied.
"Can you still taste the soap?" asked Gibbs, a wry smile on his face.
"Yeah and smell it too," answered Tony, "you're not going to make me stand in the corner with soap in my mouth are you?"
Gibbs sighed, "ahh no Tony, not this time, I figure you were tired, I'd invaded your home and perhaps not announced my upset with you in the same way, but use that kind of language under my roof and you get the full works, ok?"
"It's a deal Dad, and I am sorry about how I spoke to you, my home or not it shouldn't have happened," Tony apologized.
"You're right, it shouldn't happen but it did and we move past it, I wasn't there to pull you up on your use of uncouth language but rather on the more worrying deceit and theft," said Gibbs, "now that needs some explanation, whether you are under my roof or your own, I'm not going to let my son operate like that, I brought you up better than that, you know better than that and there must be something underlying all of this that I need to know about because it is clearly something that you cannot tackle on your own."
With that Gibbs pulled the keys from the ignition and opened the trunk to remove Tony's bag. He watched as Tony remained in situ for just a while longer, hit himself in the forehead and then climbed out of the car clearly berating himself at the mess he had created.
"Hey, stop smacking yourself around the head," called Gibbs, "I'm pretty sure that's my job."
Tony just gave him a withering look and replied, "I thought you would have been considering a target much lower than my head."
"Can't say it hasn't crossed my mind," said Gibbs, "kids crime, kids punishment and all, but I figured you're a grown man and for you to do something as stupid as this there must be more to it and an ass whooping isn't necessarily going to fix it."
As they went into the house, tony headed straight for his room with his bag. "Er do you want me to stay up there?" he asked.
"No, I thought we would talk down here, I'll fix us some coffees although I might be out of your cream stuff that you insist on spoiling a good coffee with," Gibbs called after him, "so dump your bag up there, get changed out of those coveralls and get your butt back down here."
Tony complied and minutes later he wandered into the kitchen where his Dad was just finishing off the coffee.
"I lied to you," Tony almost whispered, "this morning when you asked me what I'd been dreaming about, I lied and said I couldn't remember, but I did."
"Dreams are personal Tony, you don't have to tell me, just that I heard you sobbing in it and was worried," answered Gibbs.
"I was remembering before I came to live with you and mom," said Tony, "about Senior and when my mother died."
Handing Tony the steamy cup of coffee and directing him back into the lounge, Gibbs sat down at the side of his son and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
"It's ok Son, do you want to tell me about it now?"
Tony nodded and cast his mind and his recollections back…..
It had only been a matter of a few weeks since his mother had passed away and yet his father seemed intent on destroying any memories of her that he could find around the house. Currently his father was ransacking the house looking for him with the help of the housekeeper Mr Percy, a man who Tony detested even more than his father. Perhaps his father wanted to kill Tony too, he was a reminder of his mother, but perhaps he would just follow the usual course and beat him to within an inch of his life that always seemed to make him happier.
Tony clung onto the St Christopher his mom had given him and hid away in the electric meter cupboard in the kitchen annex with it. Tony had been careless and had left it on the table in the hallway whilst he had gone to eat dinner and when he had returned it was gone. Later that afternoon when he thought his father had fallen asleep, probably passed out from the amount of alcohol, he sneaked into his office to look through the drawers in the desk in the hope it was there and not thrown out with the trash.
His luck was in, the chain and pendant were resting on the top of the desk, haphazardly thrown there and resting up against the crystal decanter full of McCallan Scotch that was currently his fathers favourite tipple. He had quickly snatched the St Christopher back and had put it into the pockets of his corduroy shorts. He should have left at that point but he saw the glow of the amber liquor within the decanter and it appeared to be taunting him.
He knew that if is father was drunk when the theft of the chain was discovered he would be in for an even harsher beating, as his father would start proceedings off and Mr Percy would be forced to step in and finish them, but if his father couldn't get so drunk then he might just survive with a beating from his father.
Quickly he acted, grabbing the decanter with both hands and lifting it down from the large mahogany desk. He looked around him for anything to pour the liquid into and deciding his only option was to pour it into the large pot plant in the corner he started to make his way over there.
He was only two feet away when he was halted by the sound of the door to the study opening. He darted into the corner, hoping to hide himself in the long velvet curtain that surrounded the window. His hands were sweating with terror and the glass decanter was heavy. This combined with the panic of being caught spelt disaster and the ornate glass piece and its liquid contents fell to the wooden floor below and smashed into a thousand small pieces.
"Stop right there Master DiNozzo," sneered Percy, "I think your father is going to want to know about this don't you?"
"Sir it was an accident, I didn't mean to drop it Sir, I didn't," Tony begged.
"Stop sniveling you stupid brat," snarled Percy and smacked Tony hard across the face knocking him to his knee, landing on the small slivers of glass from the decanter.
Percy turned and left the study, locking the door and the whisky thief therein. He went to find Senior.
Tony didn't have time to worry about his cut knees or even the glass still in them. He had to get out. His only option was through the window. He climbed out with relative ease, but now he had to hide. His mind quickly called up all of the previous hiding places that his father and Percy had found, they wouldn't do. The only one left was the dark electric cupboard in the annex. His father knew he hated small dark spaces so that would be the last place to look for him.
He had been in the cupboard now for over two hours and he could hear the angry search taking place around him. He missed his mom so much, he wanted her back and that was never going to happen, the rest of his life was going to be like this, running and trying to stay one step ahead of the pain, hurt and humiliation his father subjected him to.
As he held onto the St Christopher he let out the first words he had spoken in two hours, "please God save me."
He hadn't meant to speak them out loud nor had he been aware that his voice had carried into the kitchen where Percy was currently on his second search of the room.
The door to the cupboard was swiftly yanked open and the light from the kitchen assaulted Tony's senses that had grown accustomed to the dark within the cupboard which matched the darkness within his life.
Percy reached in and dragged him out by his hair. Tony only had chance to throw the pendant into the farthest corner of the cupboard in the hope that no one would find it there before he could retrieve it and find a safe place to hide it from his father.
Percy transfer his grasp from Tony's hair to his ear and practically dragged the boy through the house and back to the study where Senior was.
"I've found the little bastard," he announced throwing Tony to the ground again. "Are you going to deal with this or shall I start?"
"Get me the belt Percy and hold the ungrateful brat over the desk," stated Senior, who had clearly not had any difficulty in finding more alcohol to replace that destroyed by Tony.
Percy dragged Tony to his feet and pinned him face down to the desk. Tony could only hear the approach of his father and smell the stench of alcohol on him, even if he had not screwed his eyes against the thoughts of what was about to happen he would have struggled seeing as Percy had his head pinned to the desk.
He felt his father grab the back of his shorts, pulling them down so hard that it ripped the button off of the front and caused the zipper to open. They pooled at his ankles along with his underwear, which had been grabbed along with them. He felt his shirt pulled up his back that still bore the scars of earlier beatings and then the beating began.
Lash after lash rained down on him.
"I'll teach you, you snotty little brat to steal my liquor," screamed his father, "you ungrateful little bastard."
The blows kept coming, with the odd occasion being punctuated with the feel of the buckle hitting his back or his behind.
Tony was way past crying or even screaming out in pain by the time his father tired and Percy took over. No one would come and save him in any event. All he had to do was survive and go back and retrieve the St Christopher, he couldn't let his father steal that from him, it was all he had left.
By the time Tony had recounted his nightmare to Gibbs, both men had tears running down their faces. Tony couldn't see his Dad's tears as Gibbs had him held tight into his side, his head buried in Gibbs comforting shoulder. Even all those years later, Gibbs was still finding out new stories about his sons former life.
Tony started to still and calm and began to sit back up.
"I'm not telling you that to make you less angry with me," he began, "I just wanted to try to be honest with you, about the dream and that."
"I know Tony," said Gibbs kissing his son's forehead, "I know."
I also dreamt about how you dealt with me that time I stole too," admitted Tony. "I remembered the lessons I learnt from that and how different it was. I wasn't sobbing at that part."
"But those lessons you learnt from me don't seem to have worked either Son," said Gibbs, "perhaps I didn't do my job properly back then?"
Both men cast their minds back to that occasion.