It was Halloween. A day of paradise for most children. Doing ghostly crafts in school, dressing up as your favorite animal or TV character, and candy. Bag-loads of candy. But as previously mentioned, it is only so with most kids. For kids like Tony DiNozzo Jr, Halloween was just another day of Hell on Earth.

He did enjoy the dress-up, though. This year he was an astronaut. A space-man. The coolest kind of job you could have (to Tony) was to be an astronaut and fly into space on one of the big, white shuttles.

His costume was perfect. A helmet, big white boots, an alien-shaped candy bag, and the suit was constructed from one of his dad's many ski-suits. It was powder-white, and came with matching white gloves. It looked just like a space-man's outfit when combined with the helmet and boots.

While he walked down the sidewalk of his estate, clad in the thick white suit, he was unaware of his friend Marcus creeping up behind him. It wasn't until Tony let out a blood-curdling scream that Marcus realized that he had made a grave error in judgment. Before he could even finishing the word "boo", Tony was flinching away from Marcus' hand on his shoulder. Marcus was Tony's best friend, and the only one who knew why Tony was always covered in bruises and cuts. He still didn't know the worst of it, but he knew enough to realize his mistake.

"Sorry, Tony. I kinda… forgot." Marcus mumbled, feeling awful for scaring his friend like that.

Tony breathed heavily for a few moments until his complexion returned to a light shade of tan again and muttered, "Its ok."

They continued down the driveway as if it never happened, and went to the first house.

Each of the houses in Tony and Marcus' neighborhood were mansions, or at least mansion-sized, and had long sloping driveways that took several minutes to walk up. It was worth it when they got there, though, because rich people gave away the best candy. The first house already practically filled Tony's bag halfway. Tony gave the house-occupants a cheeky smile and ran down the driveway with Marcus at his heels.

After clearing the entire block of estates, Tony and Marcus both had their arms full of candy that was overflowing from their bags. Tony was sweating bullets, considering he was in a full ski-suit in the middle of autumn. He could feel his arms aching, but knew it was worth it every time he looked down at the overload of candy (with the occasional apple).

He and Marcus parted when they went by his house. Tony went up his driveway and Marcus continued down the street to his house. When Tony reached the top of the driveway, he gulped when he saw his father's car through one of the garage windows. It hadn't been there earlier.

The porch light was switched off, avoiding the attention of trick-or-treaters. Tony opened the heavy front door and slipped in, hoping to get to his room without attracting attention to himself. As he rounded the corner right before the stair case, he ran directly into his father. After one look at his son, DiNozzo Senior burst out in a fit of yelling and hoisted Tony off the ground by the shirt collar.

"You used one of my $30,000 designer ski suits to make your pathetic little costume?"

He said the word 'costume' in a way that made it seem like he was disgusted at the very thought of it.

"Ummm… yes… sorry sir…" Tony mumbled through the helmet.

His father scowled and ripped the helmet off of Tony's head, causing his sweaty hair to fly back away from his face. It practically gave him whip-lash. Tony saw his father's eyes settle on the bag of candy spilling on the ground under him. He was placed back onto the ground, and watched as his father shoved every piece of candy into the small alien bag. After it was overflowing, he grabbed Tony's arm and dragged him into his study.

The fire was blazing with orange embers. It cackled every so often, causing Tony to jump, remembering the scar on his abdomen. He watched silently as his father walked over to the fire place and dropped handful after handful of candy into the fire. The wrapper would be eaten away, and then the chocolate or candy would slowly melt into the pile of ash. When the wrapper was made of foil, the fire would flare out several feet in front of the fire place. Tony's father stood to the side to avoid this. He even threw the apples into the flames. They took longer to burn, first singing the skin and then roasting the soft apple to the core.

Tony just kept watching every piece of his heard-earned reward tumbling down into the fire. It cackled more and more with every newly-offered treat, causing Tony to jump every time. After the last piece of candy was gone, his father dropped the alien bag into the fire as well. The bright green cloth blackened instantly and spread over the whole bag, erasing the big ovular eyes and small mouth of the alien. Tony was then forcibly stripped of the ski suit, which was also burned, being deemed unusable.

By the time his father was through, he was almost stark-naked. He had been stripped of every aspect of his costume. All that was left to hide his shame was a pair of blue boxer-shorts and socks. His father took off his belt and told him to lean over his desk. Tony did as he was told, and soon felt the sharp pain. It wasn't on his bottom, though. He had never been spanked before and probably never would. His father thought of spanking as a pathetic punishment. Instead, he whipped Tony on the backs of his upper-thighs. It stung like Hell, and Tony clenched his teeth to keep the screams away.

Later that night, Tony slept on his stomach. If he even shifted the wrong way and a blanket touched his thigh, he would yelp in pain. It was weeks before he could even think about sitting. Or bending over, for that matter. For this time he stayed out of school, in fear the teachers would notice the obvious pain when he sat as his desk. It wasn't until Christmas, in fact, that he was able to sit in a chair for more than several minutes. On that note, Thanksgiving had been torturous.

Gibbs sat back and let the last story digest. He remembered McGee mentioning Tony telling him about being an astronaut during a case several years ago, but when he said he didn't sit until Christmas McGee thought he had been kidding. Especially since he ended it with a sarcastic, "Good times, Probie."

Tony, on the other hand, was thinking about Marcus. Marcus was the best friend he'd ever had, and the only one he could confide to about his father's actions. Not the really bad details, but enough so that he didn't have too big of a burden on his shoulders. Marcus had died several months after that Halloween in a freak-accident. Tony could still remember that day. Suddenly he was thrown back into another vivid memory. Not about his father, but about the day Marcus died.

The sky was bright, the sun casting a golden light on Tony and his friends' faces as they walked down the street. Tony was carrying a football, and occasionally would give a shout of 'Go long' and send it spiraling through the air for another boy to chase after and catch. This was how he liked spending his time. When they walked by the empty lot next to Donatello's Mini-Mart, his friend Jason headed in, motioning for the guys to follow. They were all curious as to what he wanted, and formed an observatory circle around Jason. Tony was one of the youngest and shortest, but never had to look over anyone's shoulder because everyone treated him like a kid brother. They let him go up into the front of the crowd, only inches away from Jason. Jason was holding something in the pocket of his jacket, waiting for everyone to get a view. When they were all there, he pulled it out slowly.

Tony was the first to gulp when he saw a glimmer of silver. Jason was pulling out a .42 pistol from his large jacket pocket. He flipped it over in his hands and waited patiently as most of them ooohed and aaahed.

"Is it loaded?" Marcus asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking. He'd been around guns before, but never loaded ones.

"'Course it ain't loaded! Why the Hell would he bring a gun here if it was loaded? Use 'yer head Marc!" An older boy, Johnny, said sneering. He grabbed the gun from Jason's hands and held it out in both hands like he was a trained FBI agent or police officer.

"Be careful, Johnny, I got it off of my old man's desk. I don't think its loaded, but you should really check first!" Jason warned. He made a reach for the gun.

"Be careful my ass!" Johnny yelled and set the automatic trigger. It made a loud click.

"Johnny don't-" Jason started to say, but not soon enough.

Johnny pulled the trigger with his right forefinger, and the shot echoed through the still emptiness of the lot. They waited to here the 'ting' of the bullet hitting a trash can, but instead they only heard a small 'thunk', as if it hit a pile of pillows. There was a muffled scream before Marcus went down in a heap, right at Tony's feet. Tony looked down at his friend and didn't know what else to do. He wept. Marcus was one of the only things that kept him sane through the shit-heap he called life, and he was gone. There was no way he could still be alive; the bullet went clear through his forehead. Tony was several years younger than Marcus, and Marcus was the second youngest of the group. It was mainly teenagers in upper middle school and high school, like Marcus, but they let Tony hang around with them. They all stood and watched as Tony knelt down and wept into his deceased friends shirt. The oldest boy, a 17 year old named Damien who was heading to West Point in a month, knealt down beside Tony and put a comforting hand on his back as he sobbed. When Tony finally stood up, Damien put his arm around Tony's back and another arm behind his knees and lifted him up, allowing Tony to cling to him as he continued to sob.

Tony, still being only eight at the time, couldn't care less about how much of a fool he was making of himself. His best friend was lying in a pool of blood on the ground in front of him. It was then that the ambulance pulled up. (Someone had obviously called when they heard the gun shot and saw Marcus fall.) Several EMT's got out and rushed to Marcus, but he was immediately proclaimed dead and they slowed their pace. They all gave small Tony sympathetic looks as they passed, taking notice of the tear-stained cheeks and red-brimmed eyes. To any passerby, Tony was a heart-wrenching sight. A small boy, sobbing his heart out and rubbing his eyes with small balled-up fists. All he needed was a teddy bear in one arm and he'd make every woman in America weep their hearts out for him.

Later on, after Marcus' body had been carried away, Damien drove Tony home, not caring that it was probably illegal to let a little boy sit on your lap while you're driving. Damien new little of Tony's home, but knew enough that he shouldn't take him straight home. Instead he opted to take him by his own house, where his mother fawned over Tony and fed him while Tony regained composure. After a few hours, Damien mouthed a 'thank you' to his mom and brought Tony back out to the car. He brought him inside to his house, where a butler whisked Tony off to his room.

Tony never told his father about what happened, knowing he would only be blamed and belittled for not doing something to help. Not that an eight year old can do very much to stop an older boy with a gun, but his father never-much liked details.

Tony looked around suddenly, realizing that he had been talking during a memory again. His boss looked like he was going to be physically ill again.

"I'm sorry, boss, I didn't mean to-" Tony began before being interrupted by Gibbs.

"Tony, don't ever apologize for what happened to you."

"I was apologizing for making you-"

The slap to the back of the head was a surprise. Tony didn't even remember seeing Gibbs leave his place on the stool and make it over to the opposite side of the basement.

Gibbs looked at Tony with more compassion and utter agony than Tony had ever seen from his boss.

Without even thinking, Tony began saying, "I'm sor-"

Gibbs put a finger to his own lips, (now back at the stool again), signaling Tony to be quiet. Tony did as he was told and looked down at his thumbs, which were still twining and untwining around each other. He hadn't realized that he was bighting his tongue. When he released the pressure of his teeth, he could taste the salty flavor of blood trickling down past his taste buds.

"Tony, why…" Gibbs began, trying to turn the anger in his voice to a more kind-sounding tone. He didn't want Tony to perceive it as anger towards him, when in reality it was anger towards the people who made him this way. "… why didn't you tell me? Why did you keep walls up all this time, blocking me out?"

Tony looked up at Gibbs, his eyes brimming with the gleam of tears. They weren't yet falling, but at any minute looked like they could turn into a waterfall of cascading tears. Tony looked at him with such pleading desperation that Gibbs' heart clenched.

"Gibbs," he sniffled back tears before continuing, "sometimes people put up walls not to keep people out…" he sniffled again and looked up into the air, at nothing really, and then settled his gaze back on Gibbs. "… but to see who cares enough to break them down."

That last statement shattered Gibbs' heart as if it were a piece of glass and those words were penetrating knives.

"Tony, I know your past life was…" he paused, "well frankly it sucked, but you can rise above that. You're not your father, and you never will be. And if he didn't care about you, he didn't deserve you. 'Cuz you're a Hell of a guy, Anthony. And even if you're father doesn't love you, we do."

It was then that Tony finally broke down. All of the pent-up anguish from years of suffering was finally released. Gibbs thought momentarily of a damn breaking, and a flood of water rushing through with great force. During his speech Gibbs had walked over next to Tony again, and now Tony grabbed onto Gibbs' shirt and hung there like it was his lifeline. He sobbed into Gibbs' shirt, his arms wrapped around his boss' back in a death-grip. Gibbs was hugging Tony right back, providing the comfort his senior field agent needed. He began stroking his hand softly through Tony's hair, ignoring the wetness he could feel seeping through his shirt.

Tony was mumbling throughout the wracking sobs. The parts that Gibbs could make out sounded something like, "He made me… and, and he made that guy… and he, he kept calling him… I thought it would never end… I wanted to kill myself…"

"Who, Tony?" Gibbs whispered softly.

"M-Mr. Vick… my-my father called him… had him…" he sniffled, "had him…"

"Had him what, Tony?"

"… molest me…" Tony finished, loosening his grasp on Gibbs. Gibbs allowed him to do so, but made him sit back down in fear he would collapse. Tony was still crying, but was now frantically trying to explain between sobs.

"Well, he didn't actually make him, but… but he knew it was happening! He knew!" Tony sobbed.

Gibbs sat silently and waited for Tony to regain an ounce of composure. He had to be patient.

"Mr. Vick was supposed to be my, my damned therapist! But you know what 'therapist' spells out, Gibbs? Huh? The friggin' rapist! And it was true! He, he'd lock me in a room with only a mattress and… and he'd make me…"

The rest came out in a mumbled hysteria of sobs. Gibbs didn't try very hard to listen, he was content on just letting Tony get it out. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear anyway. When Tony finally seemed to be finished, he looked up at Gibbs and muttered the seemingly most pitiful question Gibbs had ever heard.

"Why?"

A/N: Before I say anything, the part that says "therapist spells out the rapist" is borrowed from Daemonofcakes (or his friend, I don't know who said it first lol). Ok, back to the story. There were the memories you wanted. It was only two, I know, but don't worry. There will be some more Tony memories (not necessarily in flashback sequence, but they will be mentioned) mixed in with the comfort.

For anyone out there who has been waiting for me to update Broken Promises, its coming don't worry.

And I am reposting the story Boys Are Concrete Angels too in the next few days with corrections, because I had received a complaint about it. Even though there really weren't very many mistakes other than the occasional spelling error. Well anyway, if you haven't read that story I ask that you please do. I posted all three short chapters in that one night so it wasn't up on the fanfiction page very long before other updates pushed it away.

Thank you all and please review!

-And I have one more "vote" type thing again. Do you want it to be one more chapter of comfort and then complete or do you want a chapter where Tony goes to therapy with Gibbs or talks about it with a member of the team or something? If the second is your choice, please explain.

Thank and please review, again!

-AgentDiNozzo13