The benefits of being an injured federal agent, combined with Ducky's numerous connections, meant little waiting before Tony found himself sitting in front of a doctor. The doctor had already gently examined the ugly bruise at Tony's throat and was now giving him instructions on home treatment for his sprained ankle and a firm warning to return to the ER if he had any trouble breathing or felt sudden swelling in his throat.

"Life-threatening swelling can occur even hours after the initial trauma so make sure you come back immediately if anything starts feeling wrong," the doctor was saying.

Gibbs could tell Tony was barely listening and he wondered if it was out of trust that Gibbs was—or just a habit of ignoring doctors. He reached out and tapped Tony's shoulder, making the agent nod in response to the instruction.

The doctor's eyes narrowed on Tony's neck once more and he said, "Are you sure I can't convince you to stay overnight? You really should be monitored."

Tony shrugged and shook his head while Gibbs answered for him. "I'll be watching him."

The doctor raised an eyebrow, noting that Gibbs' hand stayed firmly on Tony's shoulder, his thumb absently stroking his collarbone. "You realize he needs to be monitored 24/7?"

"Understood," Gibbs said.

There was disapproval in the man's eyes as he asked, his tone condescending, "You gonna sleep with him?"

Gibbs ignored both Tony's attempt to shrug off his hand and his warning look, and he slid his arm around his partner.

"Yep."

The doctor blinked in surprise, then left without even trying again to insist Tony take crutches for his ankle. Gibbs let him go. Let the bigots be; it's the tolerant who will change the world.

Gibbs turned and held out his hand as Tony slid off the table, and he wasn't entirely surprised when his injured lover ignored him. Tony had been nearly silent through the examination—not shocking considering the damage to his throat—but Gibbs had also sensed Tony's withdrawal, his subtle ways of distancing himself that had nothing to do with hiding their relationship. Anyone else might have thought it was just Tony being annoyed with the poking and prodding and questions, but Gibbs knew it was more.

Unfortunately, he also knew exactly what that "it" was. Tony was pissed at him, his relief at escaping his vengeful former partner fading and allowing his anger to resurface.

Gibbs waited until they were in the car to address that anger.

"You have every right to be pissed at me," he said, glancing sideways at his silent passenger.

The bold statement took a bit of wind out of Tony's sails and he found himself voicing an earlier thought instead of shouting that of course he was pissed. "How could you think I'd do that to you?" he asked, his voice strained and rough as a pack-a-day smoker's.

Gibbs winced, keeping his eyes firmly on the road as Tony brought up a hand to his throat. "Maybe we should talk about this later," he said quietly, "when it's not hurting you to talk."

Tony made a sharp sound of disgust that ended in a hoarse little cough. "You really think it's going to hurt any less later?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper but still conveying his anger. "Take me home."

Gibbs shot a look at Tony. "I am taking you home."

"My place," Tony clarified tightly.

Knowing this wasn't about bathrooms being closer to beds, Gibbs said, "You can't be alone tonight."

"Who said I would be?" Tony rasped out. "And before you start thinking I'm planning on fucking a neighbor, I figured I could call Abby. Or Ducky."

The string of words had Tony's hand at his throat again, and Gibbs found himself wishing Tony would just give him the silent treatment. For a lot of reasons.

"Tony, I—"

"I don't even get why you still want to be with me," Tony said. "You obviously don't trust me."

"I do trust you," Gibbs said, wishing he had waited until they were out of the car to start this. He just wanted to touch his lover, find a way to make him understand. "I just—"

"Didn't last night? What changed?" Tony's eyes moved from the window to Gibbs' profile. "My partner coming to kill me doesn't exactly give you reason to trust me."

Gibbs met his gaze, incredulous. "Whatever he thinks you did to take his family from him, I know you didn't do it."

Tony shook his head, smiling sadly. "You don't even know what he accused me of, but you have complete faith that whatever it was, I didn't do it? But you don't trust me enough to know I would never hurt you by fucking around behind your back? That's…" Tony swallowed carefully, pain written plainly across his face. "That's just great. Should I thank you for that?"

"I don't want you to thank me, Tony," Gibbs said, his words just as pained, "I want you to forgive me."

Tony didn't speak right away, and Gibbs took his silence as a resounding "no."

"We're investigators," Gibbs said. "We're trained to look for patterns, and you had a long-established pattern of changing lovers like you change your socks. But I should have trusted you when you told me you were happy with being mine—and only mine. But when I was standing in that hall last night, wondering why you didn't want me around when you were sick, and I heard those noises… Just the thought of someone putting their hands on you made me so angry I could barely think straight. And I didn't think of any other possibility. It was stupid—for an investigator and for a boyfriend. I'm sorry, Tony."

The car was silent for a long stretch of highway.

Tony saw Gibbs was taking him to his apartment and it made him remember he had left that morning with the intention of finding Gibbs and apologizing. Tony suddenly had the forgiveness he would gladly have begged for and he wondered why it had taken him this long to get angry. He figured it had something to do with his long-held beliefs that all good things in his life turned to shit eventually.

"Tony?" Gibbs said, his slight trepidation reminding Tony that Gibbs had put himself out there and Tony hadn't said a word.

With thoughts of that rope around his neck and everything he had come so close to losing, Tony said, "I want to go home." He turned to Gibbs and held up a hand to stop the onslaught. "Your home. Our home."

Gibbs nodded, sensing the small victory was not a win in the war. He drove, both men silent until they reached Gibbs' comfortable suburban home. Tony didn't wait to pull his tired body from the car, but he allowed Gibbs' hand under his elbow as he limped his way up the front walk. There were times when Tony looked at this house and wished he'd never met Gibbs—but only because those wishes included a life where Shannon and Kelly had never died, and Gibbs had never joined NCIS. Tony gently pushed aside the idealized life he sometimes imagined for them, feeling a shiver run through his body as they walked inside and he remembered he had almost become another of Gibbs' ghosts.

The memories of Jason's wild eyes had Tony stopping suddenly, turning to Gibbs with a troubled expression. "Where would we be right now if he hadn't tried to kill me?" He held up a hand, telling Gibbs he wasn't done even though his voice had given out at the end of the question.

Tony let Gibbs steer him to the old couch and he dropped gratefully onto the uncomfortable thing, for once not really caring about the spring poking him in the thigh. He plucked a pillow from the cushion beside him and shoved it under his throbbing ankle, brushing off Gibbs' help because he was still unsure of how he felt about… well, everything. Once settled, he let his head fall back as Gibbs sat beside him, close but not touching.

"Would you have said something?" Tony asked. "Or would I have come here tonight to find my stuff on the curb?"

"I should have asked you—"

"I know," Tony cut him off. "I know you know you screwed up. But that still doesn't tell me why."

Gibbs thought about that for a moment, and then he rubbed his hands over his face and said, "You're so damned guarded."

Tony heard the frustration in his voice, but he just nodded slowly. "You knew that going into this."

"Yeah," Gibbs said, not exactly agreeing or disagreeing. "I knew Anthony DiNozzo is rarely the person he wants everyone to think he is. But I thought you would be different with me, Tony. You're mine. And I want all of you, good or bad. Or ugly. Even if it's as ugly as whatever he did to you in that alley that night," he finished quietly.

"That again," Tony said, sighing and shaking his head. "Why does that matter so much to you?"

"That night," Gibbs said, waiting until Tony met his eyes, "was probably the worst night of your life."

Tony's jaw tightened and he looked away, muttering, "One of 'em."

"Exactly," Gibbs said, reaching out and laying a hand on Tony's arm. "You know exactly what happened on the worst day of my life. And I don't even know half the story of even one of your worst."

Tony didn't speak. He just stared down at Gibbs' hand on him, his touch warm on his skin.

"It's not what you don't share with me, Tony," Gibbs said, moving his hand and seeing Tony's eyes close at the loss of contact. But still he kept his hand away and said, "It's that you don't share it with me. That you won't share it."

Tony drew a shuddery breath, but he still didn't speak, his mind racing. If his ankle weren't currently ablaze with pain, he probably would have run away.

"If you won't share with me the ugly things in your past, how am I supposed to believe you'll let me in now?" Gibbs slid closer, putting a gentle hand on Tony's cheek and forcing green eyes to his. "Hell, Tony. You couldn't even tell me he threatened you."

Tony froze, his gaze going guilty as it skittered away. "You saw that, huh?"

Gibbs nodded and dropped his hand. "Fell out of a stack of ads when I picked up your mail a few weeks back." He paused, watching Tony's face carefully. "I didn't go through your mail."

Tony shrugged. He knew that. "Wouldn't care if you did." His smile went slightly bitter as he thought about Gibbs' stinging accusation. "I don't have anything to hide from you."

Gibbs ignored the barb and raised an eyebrow. "Hid his threat from me." Tony didn't respond, and Gibbs shook his head. "And don't even tell me you didn't know what it was. 'Can't wait to beat you at the alley again' on a bowling postcard. Unsigned. At least the guy's got half a brain."

"Bit of a dark sense of humor, too," Tony said, his smile just as dark.

"But you never said a word to me about it," Gibbs said, his eyes flashing. "Not even when we talked about him moving close by."

"Would it have changed anything?" Tony asked tiredly.

"I don't know. But if you couldn't trust me with a threat on your damned life…" Gibbs searched Tony's eyes, watching understanding slowly blooming there. "Yeah, I kept pushing you for details on what happened in that alley, hoping you would just tell me that he threatened you. But you never did. Goddamn, Tony, what if your plan had failed? What if he stayed until you were nothing but a corpse hanging from that rope?"

Tony shrugged. "He was always squeamish. I knew he wouldn't want to stay, that he'd take the out I 'offered' him."

Gibbs closed his eyes, bristling at the casual tone coming from his lover's damaged throat. "And if he didn't buy your suicide plan? If he'd put a bullet through your head instead?" Gibbs swallowed hard before he could continue. "If I'd walked down those stairs and found you—at the end of a rope or with a bullet in your head, Tony—and knowing the last thing I said to you—"

"Hey," Tony said, hearing the panic and despair in those words. He slid closer, his arms going around the trembling body beside him. "I'm right here. I'm fine."

Gibbs sighed, squeezing back tightly and taking a moment to just hold on, his need to protect what was his overriding everything else. He realized with a faint blush that he was clinging to Tony and shifted so his head was against Gibbs' shoulder. He was grateful Tony wasn't fighting him even though his lover wasn't quite relaxed in his embrace.

They stayed that way, silently, for a long time, and Tony felt all of his anger melting away. This was where he wanted to be, and if they both had to bend a little to keep what they had from breaking, Tony figured it was worth it.

"I trust you," Tony said, not moving. "Always have. Always will."

"I trust you too, Tony, and I'm sorry I ever doubted you," Gibbs said without hesitation, and he felt the last of the tension drain from Tony's body as he settled in, stretching out with his back to Gibbs' chest.

After a long moment, Tony gave his damaged throat a painful clearing and started speaking. "We were out one night, after a department softball game—"

"You don't have to—"

"Yes, I do," Tony said firmly, even if half his words came out as croaks. "No secrets, okay?"

"Okay," Gibbs agreed, his hand trailing down the side of Tony's face and ghosting over his bruised skin. "But maybe this should wait?"

"Sounds worse than it is," Tony said. He ignored Gibbs' snorted comment on that and continued, his voice barely above an abused whisper. "We had a hell of a game—"

"Tony," Gibbs interrupted with a smile. "You can save how many homers you hit that night—"

"Three."

"—and just tell me the rest," Gibbs finished with an even bigger grin. The smile faded and he said quietly, "You don't have to tell me everything. Especially if it hurts. But I'll listen if you want to."

Tony caught the double meaning in that and nodded, finding Gibbs' hand on the cushion beside them and giving it a squeeze. He pulled that hand in front of him—dragging Gibbs' arm more tightly around him—and he traced the calluses in the work-roughened fingers as he spoke, pausing occasionally to rest his voice.

"So we were all pretty blitzed after a good game, what with obliterating our rivals and all. Jay was drinking, which he didn't always do, having a kid and another on the way and all that. His wife Lilly was great about picking our drunk asses up, but she was getting pretty big at that point and was having a rough time so I told Jay one of us should slow down. He said not to worry about it because a couple of his friends were meeting us later and the one guy didn't drink. So I stopped worrying and tossed back a few more shots—celebration shots, you know?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes, but he didn't cut off the rambling. He knew this was going to be hard on Tony, and he appreciated his lover reliving a brutal experience just for his own peace of mind.

"So later, these friends show up—and don't ask me their names because I still don't know who they were or how they knew Jay—and the one guy is so smokin' hot that I almost forgot where I was and who I was with."

Tony stopped, swallowing painfully and raising his hand from Gibbs' to his throat. He twisted and grinned up at Gibbs and said, "But not nearly as hot as you."

Gibbs ignored the words but not the gesture. "You want some water?"

Tony grimaced at the thought. "Even water feels like glass going down." He settled back in and picked up Gibbs' hand again, this time drawing lazy loops on his palm. "I still don't know if it was a test or not. But I know I passed if it was. I was terrified back then of anyone finding out I wasn't as straight as I claimed so I was careful. Ridiculously careful, now that I think about it. But I did what I had to do to stay safe."

Gibbs felt a small shudder run through Tony's body and he thought about stopping him. But Tony just soldiered on before he could say a word. "At least I thought I was safe. Can't believe how wrong I was… I mean, I even thought about telling Jay a couple of times, because he just didn't seem the type to give a shit about things like that. He is… well, he was a hell of a cop. The kind of partner you never had to check to make sure he had your back. I just knew he'd be there. I guess I was wrong about that, too."

The bitterness and pain in Tony's voice made Gibbs realize the beating had probably been the easier part for Tony to take that night. The betrayal, though, had left wounds that were still unhealed, unable to form tough scars because they were still bleeding. Gibbs suddenly remembered Ducky's words about not needing to hear about every punch or broken bone to know what happened.

"Hey," Gibbs said. "I get it now. You don't have to do this."

"If that were all of it, I might let it go there," Tony said darkly, realizing he wanted to get this out. "So Jay and these friends decide they want to go somewhere else. It was almost last call so everyone else stayed, but I was drunk and would have followed my partner to the ends of the earth so I went with them. I rode with Jay and the other friends took one of their cars. No lecture needed—I was too drunk to realize how drunk Jay wasn't. He put on a good show all night, but he was stone fucking sober when he pulled over and gave me the strangest look I'd ever seen. Said he wanted to talk to me. I said I might puke so we got out of the car and went to stand against a building to get out of the wind. He looked nervous, or confused, or something… I finally just told him to spill it. And he did."

He slid sideways in Gibbs' arms and looked up, his green eyes so full of pain that Gibbs pressed his lips to Tony's. The kiss was as gentle as Gibbs' voice when he finally spoke. "Don't, okay? It's not worth you going through this again."

Tony shook his head. "No. You're worth this." He drew a breath and smiled without humor. "He told me he was in love with me."

Gibbs suddenly knew everything Tony was about to say, and it made him sick. Even the sudden insight into Tony's personality wasn't worth this. But Tony just continued, recounting his partner's lies.

"He said he was going to leave Lilly for me," Tony said, coughing a harsh little laugh. "I should have known then that something was really wrong. Lilly is an amazing person—just perfect in every way. Funny and smart, strong and beautiful. And damn could she cook." Tony's smile was short-lived and his grip tightened on Gibbs' hands. "But as much as I loved her, it was like, I guess how you'd love a sister. But him... I had such a crush on him, but I thought he was straight as can be. At least I was right about that."

Gibbs could feel Tony's uneven breathing and waited patiently while his lover gathered his thoughts.

"But he really sold it, told me he'd already told Lilly he was leaving because he was in love with me, and I was already head over heels in love with him so I just stupidly believed all of my dreams were coming true." Tony closed his eyes. "He told me to kiss him. 'Just so I can be sure,' he said. I should have known how strange that sounded but I was piss drunk and thinking I had finally found someone who could love me."

"I love you, Tony," Gibbs said firmly, holding on tight and stroking a calming hand down Tony's arm.

Tony exhaled with a nod. "I know. I love you, too." He let Gibbs' touch soothe him enough to tell the rest of the story, the words coming easier as he described the physical pain he suffered that night. "As soon as I kissed him, the second my lips touched his, he drew back and belted me. Broke my nose so I was too busy spitting blood to notice that his friends were back. I was too drunk and stunned to run. Not that it would have mattered. I think Jay would have chased me to hell and back for betraying him like that."

"I hope I don't need to tell you it wasn't your fault," Gibbs said quietly.

"I know," Tony said, rolling his head back and looking up at Gibbs with a thoughtful expression. "And thank you. But since you're new at this, you don't know what it's like to be told you're bad or disgusting just for acting on urges that come completely naturally to you. My body doesn't know the difference between a hot girl and a hot guy—it reacts the same way to both. I thought that was normal. For a while. I got disowned at twelve because my father found out the Sam I was playing doctor with was a Samuel, not a Samantha."

Gibbs felt his hands clench into fists, but he forced himself to relax when he felt Tony's body tensing in time with his. He couldn't help smiling a little as Tony gently uncurled his fingers, splaying them one by one across his belly as he spoke.

"The biggest of the three grabbed me," Tony said, his throat aching and knowing he sounded like shit but still wanting to get all of it out—for him and for Gibbs. "They cuffed my hands behind my back—with my own damn cuffs. Talk about embarrassing…" Tony huffed out a soft breath, tracing Gibbs' fingers with his own, now trembling slightly. "I'm really not sure what was more painful: them pounding the crap out of me or the things they said, the things they called me. Jay had always practically relived his single days through me and my 'conquests', as he called them. But now, between his sucker punches, he was calling me a whore and a slut and a piece of filth. The damned hot guy asked me if I wanted to fuck him."

Gibbs braced, knowing Tony's mouth. In a lot of ways, now.

"Yeah," Tony confirmed, having felt the tension in the body he was half-lying on. "I said yes. Told him in graphic detail exactly what I wanted to do to him. He broke my jaw. Hairline fracture, I found out later, but it shut me up pretty good. Goddamn, that hurt. And without my smart mouth to keep my mind off the fact that this was Jay, my fucking partner, beating me senseless, I started really listening to what they were saying. So between 'dirty faggot' and 'queer' and 'sick fucking piece of shit', I heard Jay tell me to stay away from Joey—his little boy. Kid called me 'Uncle T' and I'd picked him up from school a dozen times, but because I was gay, suddenly I was a pedophile, too."

Gibbs heard the disgust in Tony's voice, but he didn't know what to say. He had never been tormented because of his orientation, but Tony had—more than once, and by people who should have had his back. So Gibbs just held him close, his hands still resting protectively on Tony's stomach as he let him talk.

"I told him that wasn't how it worked and to fuck off, but it didn't make any difference. I doubt they could have understood me even if my words didn't sound like mush. So they kept hitting me. I swear it felt like every one of Jay's punches was twice as hard, even though he wasn't the biggest guy there."

The disgust was gone, and all Gibbs could hear was pain in Tony's rough voice. He felt a hand on his arm and realized he was squeezing too tightly because of his tension. He relaxed immediately—and he knew in that moment that he would never lay a hand on Tony. No matter how angry, or frustrated, or upset, Gibbs knew he would never even grab Tony roughly again, as he had during one of their early heated arguments. Just the thought of the faint red marks he had left on Tony's wrist that night made Gibbs want to go throw up from sheer regret and shame. He realized Tony was still talking and tried to make himself focus, even though the last thing he wanted was to listen to how much worse this could get.

"The big guy who had me by the arms finally let me drop to the ground when he got sick of holding me up. I couldn't have stood up if I tried. I could barely breathe because of the shit-ton of broken ribs." Tony paused, shaking his head. Gibbs could practically feel him fighting for control—and he knew the feeling well. He realized he should have put a bullet through Redman's head—and just maybe realized Tony had a very good reason to keep this story buried. "I remember lying there, listening to them asking me just how much I liked taking it in the ass, and I just wanted them to stop. Or just shoot me. I might have been begging. I don't really remember everything. I didn't realize I was crying until one of them pointed it out—Jay, of course. I do remember looking up at him, watching him crouch down beside me. I remember exactly what he looked like when I asked him to kill me."

Tony's thumbs were working Gibbs' clenched hands open again, and Gibbs couldn't help wondering how Tony was managing to soothe him when it should have been the other way around.

"He looked relieved," Tony said, massaging the tension out of his lover's rough hands. "I think he was waiting for me to ask for it. Like there was still some shred of decency because we were partners or something. I don't know. Maybe he's just a sick fuck. He would have shot me—with my own gun no less. Some young couple saved my life. Came walking through and saw Jay with my gun and the woman started screaming bloody murder." Tony laughed without mirth. "Close, but I wasn't quite dead yet. The guys ran off, but Jay stayed. He calmed the couple down and tucked my gun into his pocket. I don't know if he would have killed them if I had started talking."

"If you even could have," Gibbs muttered darkly, unconsciously touching Tony's face and thinking about how hard you had to punch someone to break a jaw.

"Right," Tony said, reaching up to gently bring the stray hand back down, shivering as it brushed long-healed ribs even though he knew these hands would never hurt him. "That bastard spun some tale about running off muggers and he held my fucking hand all the way to the hospital—all the while hoping I'd die on the way there. He played protective partner with the doctors and everything, threatening everyone in sight to take good care of me, because I was his partner, dammit."

Gibbs knew instinctively that those wounds inflicted by feigned caring were some of Tony's deepest. He caught Tony's massaging hands and returned the favor, his touch light and gentle as he stroked the tension from the long fingers. He figured Tony might be done talking but he still had one question that he had to ask—and he knew by Tony's long sigh that he was expecting it.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Gibbs asked, careful to keep his tone perfectly neutral. He knew this had taken a lot of out Tony, and Gibbs was hurting for him. There was no reason to add to that pain. "Why not tell everyone who would listen what that bastard did to you?"

"Lilly," Tony said simply.

Gibbs had to think for a moment, backtracking through betrayal and lies and broken bones to find the answer. "The pregnant wife you loved like a sister."

Tony nodded, wincing at the pain in his bruised neck and knowing it would be worse in the morning. "She was seven months into a difficult pregnancy and she had already almost lost the baby twice."

"The baby they named after you," Gibbs said, sounding disgusted but trying to keep a lid on it.

"Yep" was all Tony said.

"And no one questioned his story?" Gibbs asked.

Tony heard the investigator's voice in that, but he just said, "I was too out of it at first for them to ask me and they had no reason to because my partner was doing all the talking. I'm glad for that, I think." He gently swatted Gibbs' hand as it started to tighten into a fist. "She was upset enough as it was, Gibbs, seeing me like that. My face was a mess—bruised and swollen and I ended up with a mouthful of stitches. It wasn't pretty," he said softly, his fingers trailing over Gibbs' fist. "But you know that. I'm guessing you looked up the official report on my 'mugging'?"

"I know every bone he broke, every bruise and every stitch," Gibbs said tightly. He ran his hands up over Tony's ribs and back down over his chest and belly. "I know every mark he put on your body."

Tony heard the barely controlled fury and he realized he had never felt more safe and loved and protected—and also why Gibbs had called Metro instead of taking it as an NCIS case against one of its agents. "You turned him over so you wouldn't go kill him later."

"Yep," Gibbs agreed. He thought about the favors owed him by various Metro officers but he forced those thoughts away. "No one questioned the bruises on his hands?"

"He said he fought one of the attackers," Tony said, answering the questions because he knew he wanted to lay this night to rest, piss on its grave and walk away. "The couple had been drinking. It was dark. They had the word of one of Peoria's finest."

"And you weren't saying otherwise."

"No," Tony said, surprised at the lack of judgment in those words. "I couldn't do that to her. I knew I could leave, find another department, a new life. I couldn't make her pay for my mistakes."

"Tony—"

"No, Gibbs," he said softly. "I should have told him. First because I was his partner and partners shouldn't have secrets, and second because I should have protected myself. I should have told him in front of witnesses and gauged his reaction. I'd have known if it was going to be a problem later. I'm good at reading people."

"That you are," Gibbs said, dropping a kiss on Tony's cheek. He smiled. "Hell, you even knew I liked men before I did."

"All men?" Tony asked, his tone mock outraged—but really he was grateful for the levity.

"Just this one," Gibbs returned, slouching down again and trying to get comfortable.

"Couch sucks," Tony said, realizing how much it still hurt to talk, even when the subject wasn't painful at all.

"We'll go find a new one once that ankle's better," Gibbs said, smiling. "I'm guessing you're the type to try out fifty before you go back and buy the first one?"

Tony's laugh turned into a cough. "Yeah, maybe." He paused for a moment, feeling that Gibbs' body wasn't completed relaxed under his. "Just ask. I'd rather get it all out tonight and bury it again."

Gibbs smiled, but he shook his head and asked, "How did you do it? Lie there in that hospital bed and let him hold your hand?"

"I also let him spew a bunch of bull about catching the bastards who hurt me," Tony said, sighing. "But the answer to your question is good drugs and being good at pretending. I had a lot of practice pretending my father didn't hate me for simply being who I am, pretending I would be spending holidays with him instead of sitting at school while all the other boys went home to their families. So I just pretended Jay and Lilly were still the same people who had welcomed me into their family not that long before. And she still was—she's the one who got me through it. All I remember from the first few days is her voice, her hand on mine, telling me everything would be okay. I remember being barely conscious and she would put my hand on her belly and tell me little Anthony needed his Uncle T so I had to be okay. And I believed her. She's just one of those people that you believe, you know?"

"Mmmm," Gibbs said, thinking about Shannon—specifically her in labor with Kelly, telling him everything would be fine. And it had been. While it had lasted. Gibbs smiled even though he still felt their loss like it was yesterday—but the smile remained because he had found that more and more of his memories were happy ones now that he was finally happy again. He had never imagined it would be because of the man lying in his arms, but he didn't care as long as he got to remember radiant smiles instead of tearful faces begging him not to go. "So Lilly found out what he did to you and that's what sent him after you now?"

Tony nodded, not surprised Gibbs had figured it out. "I've kept tabs on her all these years. In the back of my head I've always been terrified he would turn on her or the boys," Tony admitted softly. He was glad he wasn't looking at Gibbs as he said, "Makes me wonder who I was protecting back then."

"Hey," Gibbs said, sitting up and gently turning Tony to face him. "Even if you were protecting yourself, then that's what you needed to do. You can't blame yourself for that."

"I could have told her," Tony said stubbornly, "even if it was after the baby."

"I can guess why you didn't," Gibbs said sympathetically, his heart twisting at Tony's wry smile. "She wouldn't have believed you. He had everyone buying into his nice-guy act."

"And if I suddenly changed my story later, after I had already walked out of their lives," Tony said, nodding his agreement. "She hated me for that, for leaving with no real explanation. I don't blame her. Not one bit. And I wouldn't have blamed her."

"I know," Gibbs said, his eyes moving from Tony's tired face to his swollen ankle. He gave Tony a minute to say anything else he wanted to say before asking, "You ready to get some sleep?"

Tony ignored the question, his green eyes distressed. "I should have told her. If he had hurt her…"

"He didn't," Gibbs said immediately, before realizing he didn't know that for sure.

But Tony was shaking his head. "He didn't. I made a call at the hospital. She wanted to talk to me but I just hung up on her. I just couldn't… not right then."

Gibbs saw the guilt and he put a hand on Tony's shoulder. "It's okay to protect yourself, Tony. Especially when no one else is doing it for you." He felt the lingering tension and said, "You can call her back later. Right now you should sleep."

"Yeah," Tony said, letting Gibbs slide the pillow from under his foot. "Okay." He lowered his leg and winced at the return of the throbbing pain, glancing at the steps and giving a little groan. He was not looking forward to dragging himself upstairs.

A hand appeared in front of his face and Gibbs pulled him up to his feet. "Think I've got a pair of crutches up in the attic," Gibbs said, adding under his breath, "you stubborn ass."

"Nah," Tony said, relishing the strength in Gibbs' body as he helped him across the room. "I'd rather lean on you."

After half-hopping up the stairs, Tony turned to his lover, a bright smile chasing away the last of the shadows in his eyes. "I thought you liked my ass?"

Gibbs grinned and carefully lowered Tony onto their bed. "I love your ass." He frowned down at Tony's swollen ankle and looked back up at his bruised neck. "But I hate that you're so damned stubborn."

Tony gave him a good-natured eye-roll but he didn't speak until he was lying against Gibbs' side, their legs entwined and arms around each other. "I'm no more stubborn than you are." Gibbs' only response was a laugh, and it made Tony smile and nestle closer, soaking up the warmth of the body he was wrapped around. "Maybe I'm a little stubborn," he conceded, lifting a hand to draw random shapes on Gibbs' chest.

But Gibbs gently grabbed the wandering hand and tucked it against him. "Sleep," he commanded softly, knowing it had been a long couple of days—for both of them.

Tony closed his eyes, and he ignored the pain in his throat to rasp out, "You know, if I hadn't been so stubborn, none of this would have happened."

Gibbs considered that for a moment before giving a shrug of the shoulder Tony wasn't resting on. "Maybe next time you'll tell me when someone threatens your life," he said lightly even as he tightened his arm around the warm body beside him.

"Will do," Tony agreed, pausing and letting out a long breath. "But that wasn't exactly what I meant."

Gibbs waited patiently, knowing the words to come weren't just physically hard to get out.

"The whole time I was lying there—in the damned hallway no less—I was imagining this," he said, squeezing tightly. "I kept thinking if I had just told you what was going on, you would have been there and I wouldn't have been lying there alone, hoping the migraine would just kill me already."

Gibbs stroked a hand lightly through Tony's hair in belated comfort for his suffering. "I'm sorry I wasn't there," he said softly.

Tony looked up at him with a wry smile. "Didn't I just say it was my fault?"

"Wasn't just your fault," Gibbs said, tapping a finger to Tony's lips. "I should have known something was wrong when I heard you moaning like that."

Tony raised an eyebrow and shook his head, dislodging the finger. "That's why you thought I was with someone else?"

If Gibbs were the blushing type, his cheeks would have been fire-engine red. "I… I remember thinking I've never made you sound like that, you know… when we…"

"Fuck?" Tony supplied helpfully, with a grin. He nodded. "This is totally all my fault. It's because I asked you to handcuff me that one time, isn't it?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes and put his finger back over Tony's mouth. "We're done talking about blame. And you're done talking, period. It hurts to listen to you."

"But we could get furry ones—"

Gibbs pressed his finger harder against Tony's lips and he asked, "What's it gonna take to get you to stop that?"

Tony grinned, taking a playful nip at Gibbs' fingertip. "I can think of one thing."

"You're impossible, you know that?" Gibbs shook his head with a smile, feeling Tony's hand sliding over his hip. "Really, Tony? Aren't you tired?"

Tony sighed and laid his head back on Gibbs' shoulder, his wandering hand coming back up to rest in the silvery nest of hair on his lover's chest. "Yeah, dead tired," he admitted, but he didn't try to hide his smile. He knew he was where he belonged and it just felt so right. "But I figured you'd spend all night worrying about me if I didn't at least try to jump you."

Gibbs laughed, feeling Tony's rough cheek against his side. "Yeah, I probably would have," he said, tenderly stroking that stubbled cheek and wishing Tony had chosen a different phrase other than "dead." He needed to distract himself from the could-have-beens, so he said, "So these migraines you get, they hurt like hell, huh?"

Tony grinned in the darkness, knowing he would never face one alone again.

"Nothing we can't handle together."