"I can understand DiNozzo and David's need for time off, Agent Gibbs," Vance said from behind his desk. "But may I inquire as to why you and McGee need it as well?"
"Agent David was injured because she was distracted. I think we all might be, and I don't wanna take the chance of putting any of them in the field right now. We all need to work this through." Gibbs explained in hopes of not having to reveal too much.
"Distracted by what?" So much for that...
Gibbs took a breath, "The accident Tony was in, in Garrett County, jarred some repressed memory," he began. "It was traumatic enough to cause a seizure while he was still there. I ordered my team to do some research into his past, and what they found was...disturbing, to say the least."
"So they all know," he surmised. "And this is what distracted David and got her hurt?"
"That's what I'm thinkin', yeah."
"What exactly did they find?"
"It's personal, Leon. You wanna know that information, you'll have to ask him. If I could've avoided the rest of them finding what they did... Hell, I had them look for it on the off chance that it was a false memory. Didn't expect them to find what they did."
Vance sat silent for a few moments. "How much time are you lookin' for?" he asked, finally.
Gibbs cocked his head, "Not exactly sure how long we need," he said, "But we can start with a couple of days."
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"It's your fault she's dead, boy!" his father's words cut him like a knife, even more penetrating then the pain that surged through him as he was thrown back into the wall.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean it..." the child cried. But his father had no desire to listen to his apologies. Instead, he continued his assault, both verbally and physically. And Tony continued to plead for forgiveness... And before he knew it, he felt the stinging of his scalp as his father gripped him by the hair and began to drag him down the hall...
"Tony?" McGee's voice pulled Tony from his memory and caused him to look up at the agent who was now standing beside his desk.
"Yeah?" he questioned him.
"You okay?" Tim's brow was furrowed, and Tony became self-conscious.
"Why wouldn't I be, Probie?" he asked as he forced a smirk and a calm look on his face.
"You just seemed a little distracted," Tim replied as he went back to his own desk.
"Paperwork does that to me sometimes," Tony said as he glanced down at the files in front of him.
"Yeah, I know. But you seemed a lot more zoned out than usual, if that's even possible," Tim said with a hint of sarcasm as he sat and continued to study Tony's expression.
"That's why I like field-work, McGoo," he said without looking up from the file. "Keeps my mind too busy to think about irrelevant things..."
Gibbs stood silently on the top row of stairs coming down from MTAC, as he watched and listened to Tim and Tony's small conversation. Concern was clearly evident in the way McGee nervously glanced over at Tony also imperceptibly from his screen. But Tony's attempt to seem perfectly fine, wasn't fooling any of them.
As he started his descent, he noticed Ziva as she silently made her way from the ladies room back into the bullpen. She'd cleaned up and changed into some normal work clothes. Gibbs watched as Tony stood and went to her, asking if she was okay again, and visually examined the mark at her temple.
"Ducky took x-rays and said that everything is fine," she assured him. He searched her eyes, and she knew the look in his; guilt. "Tony," she placed a gentle hand on his arm, "I am fine."
"You eat yet, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked as he rounded into the bullpen, saving Ziva from further probing.
"Haven't thought about it, Boss," Tony said as he watched Gibbs go to his desk.
"Well, I'm outta coffee," Gibbs told him as he threw his empty cup into the trash.
"You uh...want me to make a run, Boss?" McGee asked. Gibbs looked over at him.
"No, we're all goin'," he replied before grabbing his keys and coat. The three agents glanced at one another before unquestioningly grabbing their coats, and following Gibbs to the elevator.
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"This is different," McGee said in a low voice to Tony and Ziva as they sat in a booth in the small cafe. "When have we ever done this before? I mean...breakfast...together in a restaurant, for no reason..."
"I do not recall," Ziva replied.
"That's because we haven't," Tony said. "Why do I feel like we're about to be grounded?" Tim smirked, and they watched as Gibbs returned to the table from the bathroom; just in time as the waitress brought their food.
They were all quiet as they surveyed the plates in front of them. Tony seemed satisfied that they'd made everything correctly; his eggs, scrambled; three slices of bacon and some lightly buttered toast. Gibbs watched the agent play the eggs around with his fork.
"Is something wrong, Boss?" McGee asked.
"Why do you ask that?" Gibbs looked at him where he sat beside Tony on the inside of the booth.
"Well, it's just that we, uh... I mean, we don't usually leave work to...uh..."
"Nothin' to worry about, McGee," Gibbs said as he picked up his coffee and took a sip. Tim looked down at his own plate, then, and picked up his fork.
"Shouldn't we have brought our gear, in case we suddenly get a call?" Tony asked.
"Won't be getting a call," Gibbs said as he forked a few fried potatoes. McGee and Tony gave him a questioning look. "Vance gave us some time off."
"All of us?" McGee asked with a furrowed brow. Gibbs nodded as his mouth was occupied with a bite of his food. "Oh," he decided not to question further. Gibbs looked at Tony, whose posture was a bit hunched as he stared blankly down at the untouched food in his plate...
"Eat your godamn eggs, Junior," his father told him at the breakfast table. He looked down at the plate in front of him.
"I...I don't like 'em this way, Dad," the child said. "Mommy makes them scrambled..."
"Well, Mommy's dead, Junior!" he yelled, "Thanks to you..." he stood and threw his own plate into the sink and stormed out of the room. Tony was left there, guilt overwhelming him. And since his father had left the room, he could cry silently, without the fear of ridicule...
"You just gonna stare at it, or are you gonna eat?" Gibbs pulled him from the memory. Tony looked up from his plate, and Gibbs noticed the redness in them.
"Guess I'm still not very hungry," Tony said with a facade smirk as his pushed the plate slightly away.
"Gettin' kinda close to your appointment time," Gibbs told him as he glanced at his watch.
"Yeah...maybe I'll uh...take it to go."
"You figure out how you're getting there?"
"Probie's gonna give me a ride," he told him, glancing briefly at McGee. Gibbs nodded.
"Gonna give him a ride back, too?" he asked McGee.
"Yeah, Boss. Not a problem."
"Okay. Ziva, I'll give you a ride home when we're done here," Gibbs told her.
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"You okay?" McGee asked the over-silent agent beside him in the car.
"Yeah," Tony replied. "Just thinkin'," he told him.
"You know I'm here if you...wanna talk about anything? Anything at all..."
"Thanks, Tim, I appreciate that," he said in a calm voice. McGee hadn't really expected the answer to be anything more than passive. But he did expect him to not actually talk about it.
"I mean it, Tony. Seriously," Tony looked at him, and Tim glanced in small spurts away from the road. "I know it's personal, but...you've helped me through a lot of my own personal crap. Even when I didn't ask for it. Actually, especially when I didn't ask for it," he smirked.
Tony matched his smirk, then turned his gaze back out the window. "You're a pretty good investigator, McGee," he said. "I'm sure you've come to a conclusion."
"If you think I'm out to solve the puzzle, that's not what I'm trying to do," Tim told him. "I just wanna be there for you like you've been for me...and everyone else on our team."
"Yeah, I've done so much," Tony laughed, "I practically have you all on suspension!"
"Time off isn't suspension, Tony, it's vacation time. And what makes you think it has anything to do with you?"
"Isn't it obvious?" he turned to look at him, the facade smile still in play. "Everyone is being affected somehow by something you all found that happened to me over three decades ago. Hell, Ziva was hit by a car! And no matter how you wanna sit there and explain how it's not my fault, it is. And that's not me trying to be self-absorbed, but I'm pretty damn sure she wasn't thinkin' about shopping..."
McGee wasn't sure how to respond to that. As he pulled into the parking lot of the therapist office, he opened his mouth to speak, "I-" he began, but Tony cut him off.
"You shouldn't wanna help me, McGee. You should help yourself, and get as far away as you can from me...I'm a walking disaster. Everything I care about, I end up destroying..." he opened his door as the car stopped in front of the building. McGee was dumbfounded by his words.
"Tony..." he said, and Tony paused outside of the door. "I'll be here when you get out," he told him...
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"Why did you take us to breakfast?" Ziva asked from the passenger seat of Gibbs' car. Gibbs cocked his head.
"DiNozzo needed to eat," he told her, glancing briefly at her. "Thought if everyone was there, he'd at least try to."
"That did not work out so well," she said with a raise of her brows as she held up the to-go container. "What is the saying? You can lead a horse to water, but you cannot make him drink."
"That's right," he said with a smirk.
"Of course it is," she said with a sigh. "The one time Tony is not around to hear it."
"Nah, you're getting better," he assured her.
"I know," she replied as she glanced over at him. "I have been here a long time now. Sometimes I just do it to cheer him up," the corner of her mouth turned up a bit. "I think it gives him great pride to correct me."
This earned a big smile and quiet laugh; quite a rare sight from Gibbs. "Don't ever tell him that," he said. And moments passed before the grin faded, taking Ziva's along with it.
"Tony is strong," she said as he pulled up in front of her building. He put the car in park and looked at her. "I know it is much different than the many times he has been hurt before. But like those times, he will get through this," her statement was more of a need for affirmation from Gibbs.
He narrowed his eyes before replying, "You're right; it's different. But I don't think it's so much about the hurt you saw it those pictures." Ziva furrowed her brow in search for further explanation. But he looked away briefly. "Go inside; get some rest," he told her, then looked back at her. "If you're up to it, come over to my place tonight. I'll...figure something out for dinner."
Her initial feelings to protest his halting of information about Tony, vanished, and her features softened. "You got breakfast," she said with a small smile playing on her lips. "I will bring dinner."
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McGee got back to the therapist building a few minutes before he needed to, and parked where he'd dropped Tony off, but let the engine run so it'd be warm when Tony got out to it. It wasn't long before Tony was making quick pace to the car and into the passenger seat. He quietly put on his seat belt, and Tim felt a bit awkward in the silence as he put the car back in drive.
"Everything go okay?" he decided to ask.
"Peachy," Tony replied flatly.
"You need anything before I drop you off?" he asked. Tony was silent. Tim glanced at him for a moment from the road. His arms were crossed around his stomach and he was hunched slightly forward. "Are you cold?" There was no reply. Tony was just staring at the dashboard, blankly...
"Did you actually see your mother fall downstairs, Tony?" his therapist had asked. And Tony thought back...
He'd been in the kitchen getting a glass of milk. He left it on the table to go back upstairs where he was supposed to be. He wasn't even supposed to be downstairs at all when his mother was drinking. But she wouldn't know...she never did.
This time, however, she had beaten him to the stairs. Tony hid behind the edge of the doorway into the kitchen when he saw her begin to climb the stairs. He had no idea why she was going up there, but there was a very slim chance he'd get up there before she realized he wasn't in his room.
He planned it out in his head; if she went to his room, he'd quickly jet into the bathroom and pretend that's where he'd been. But there was always a chance she was just going to go to bed, in which case, he would be home free.
Tony peeked around the wall to see if she had gotten to the top yet. What he hadn't expected was to see her slip, and with a yelp, begin a rapid, twisting backward somersault down the case. "Mom!" he yelled out, but was frozen...
Her unconscious body hit the floor right in front of where he now stood, and he watched his yellow toy truck make its path down the steps after her, and come to a stop at his feet. "Mommy?" he bent down beside her. "Mom, I'm sorry!" he shook her, "Please wake up!" he was in tears before he realized he should call for help...
"Tony!" McGee's voice pulled him suddenly from the memory that had sucked him completely out of reality. He turned to see Tim's concerned, almost frightened, face, and realized the car was pulled over. A sudden wave of nausea hit him, and his hands went flying to the handle to open the door, just in time for him to empty the meager amount of coffee and stomach acid onto the pavement outside.
McGee panicked, got out of the car and went around to Tony's side and pulled open the door all the way as Tony was finished vomiting. He crouched down beside Tony, "Are you okay? Should I take you to the hospital?" he asked, before realizing there were tears streaking Tony's cheeks. "Tony?"
"It's all my fault, Probie..." his voice cracked and his eyes closed before he dropped his head into his hands.
"What? What's your fault?" he asked with furrowed brow.
"My mother..." Tim barely made out the words as they were muffled, but he was confused and shook his head before closing the door and going back around to get into the driver side.
"Tony, I already looked that up," he said as he recalled the information they'd found. "She died of cancer-"
"She died because she was too weak to fight it," he replied into his hands. "Because I made her fall..." McGee swallowed, unsure of how to respond. He put the car back into drive and sped toward Gibbs' house. Tony seemed to regain control over his composure in that moment and sat up straight after swiping at his cheeks.
"Tony, I-"
"Sorry, McGee," he said in a much calmer voice. "I didn't mean to break down on you, there."
"Whatever you're thinkin' about what happened to your mother, it wasn't your fault."
"My shit, Tim," he said sternly. "She stepped on my toy and ended up falling downstairs, breaking three bones and getting a concussion..."
McGee thought that over for a moment. "You didn't plant it there for that to happen, Tony."
"It doesn't...really matter, does it?" he looked at him. Tim glanced briefly from the road to look at him.
"Do you honestly think anyone blamed you for that?" he asked.
"I know they did," he replied through gritted teeth as his gaze fell back onto the dashboard.
Tim glanced at him again, then to the road as he thought back to the records they'd found. It was only a few moments before he came to the shocking realization. "Oh my god," he let out a breath as his heart sank in his chest. "Tony, your father...he was wrong. What he did..."
"I deserved what he did, McGoo," Tony said flatly. "I killed his wife..."
"No!" Tim glanced at him with frustration, "You didn't do anything wrong! He was an idiot to tell you it was your fault!"
"Really, Probie?" he said with equal frustration. "'Cause he seemed pretty damned convinced otherwise! You saw the report! You saw what he did to me... All these years, I'd been pissed off about being sent off to boarding school, when in reality, it was a merciful act of kindness! He shoulda buried me right along-side her!"
"Seriously?" McGee said in a sarcastic tone, "You think he shoulda killed his eight-year-old son in addition to the smack-down he delivered?"
"Just drop it-"
"No, honestly, Tony," he continued. "If you really wanna get technical about it, it's really his fault for buyin' the toy for you in the first place. And let's not forget the bottle of scotch he brought home that the both of them didn't hold back from drinking. But I suppose that's somehow your fault, too, right?"
Tony opened his mouth to respond, but was quite frankly shocked that McGee had taken the conversation down the path he had. His mouth clamped back shut as he thought.
"You've been atoning for sins you never committed, ever since I've known you. But I never knew how far back it went, until now... How long have you felt this way?" he asked out of curiosity. "I mean, has it been on your shoulders this whole time, or did it just come to you?"
"I always felt like somehow it was my fault," Tony replied in a low voice. "But rediscovering what actually happened... confirmed it for me."
McGee shook his head. "He was wrong, Tony. I don't care what the hell he told you, or how you remember it... Unless you were standing at the top of those stairs and physically pushed her down, there's no way in hell you can sit there and tell me that you were to blame."
"Well, maybe I did..." he turned to look at Tim. "I'm learnin' knew stuff all the time. There's bound to be something in there to back me up."
Tim gave up. There was no way to win this argument, and Tony sure as hell wasn't ready to listen to reason. He was glad when they finally pulled up to Gibbs' house. Gibbs would know what to do... Right?
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odd place to end the chapter, I know, but I cant keep my eyes open any longer...and wanted to get something up, as promised. Hope you liked it :)