Jackson guided Tony from the room he'd slept in to where his Dad was arguing with Ducky.
"I've told you Jethro, you need to stay in for another 24 hours observations," argued Ducky, "and if you don't stop trying to get out of that bed I'll have Timothy handcuff you too it."
"But I need to get up and sort some things out Doctor Mallard," protested Gibbs not caring that the argument was starting to draw several stares from others passing by the room and rather nervous looks from Jimmy, Ziva and Tim.
"You're going to do no such thing Leroy," his father cut in, entering the room, "and if you think that ice cold stare is going to frighten these good people into letting you out of here quicker then you're wrong son, you haven't got half as much practice at is as I have."
"Dad, is Tony with you?" asked Gibbs immediately forgetting the argument he'd been having with Ducky.
Jackson stepped to one side to allow Tony access to the room.
"Hi Dad," murmured Tony at a level which was almost inaudible to any ears but his dads.
"Tony," his Dad acknowledged and then turned to the others, "why don't you guys go and get a drink and see if you can sneak a coffee back in here for me."
"I know a perfect little tea shop near here," announced Ducky, "it will be much better for you." Then not waiting for an answer, he left the room indicating for the others to follow him.
As the door closed behind them Gibbs beckoned for Tony to get closer to him.
Tony with his head down slowly approached the bed.
"Hey let me take a look at you," said Gibbs. "Are you alright?"
"Dad I'm so sorry," began Tony, "I never meant to hurt you like that, not at all."
"I've had worse and survived it Tony," answered Gibbs.
"Dad I could have killed you, I don't know what I would have done without you," Tony tried again.
"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Tony," said Gibbs, "we have too much to sort out first don't we?"
"Yes Sir," answered Tony knowing this was never going to just go away.
"Have you told your Granddad about everything that's happened?" inquired Gibbs.
"No Sir," answered Tony. "I've not had time to do that yet."
"But we're going to find time to discuss it," interjected Jackson, "we're going to find out just what is going on and then we are going to find a way to fix it, but I need you to be able to let me worry about it for a while and not worry about you trying to escape this hospital," he fixed Leroy with a no nonsense stare.
"Dad, I…" began Gibbs.
"Did that sound as if I was giving you a choice?" asked Jackson peering over his glasses at his son, "Cos if it did Leroy I will have another go at re-wording it."
"No Dad," sighed Gibbs, "I get it."
"Good, then Tony and I will go home and bring you some things back in a while, it will give him and me a time to talk, so behave yourself in the meantime or else it will be me and you having a conversation."
With that Jackson took a step forward tucked the blankets back around Gibbs and kissed his head.
When Tony and Jackson arrived at the family home it didn't feel right being in there without Gibbs. On top of all of that the evidence of the injury, the detritus left behind by the paramedic crew and Ducky, the blood stained pillow; all littered the room as if to set it up as the perfect crime scene.
Tony stopped dead in his tracks as he entered the lounge. He felt the warm comforting hand of his Granddad land on his shoulder and squeeze it gently.
"What say I get this cleared up whilst you go and cook us something to eat for lunch," suggested Jackson, "and that doesn't mean ordering pizza."
"Granddad I should clean it up," said Tony, "after all its my fault, my mess, Dad's even got a rule about it."
"Your Dad's not here at the moment Tony and we're working on my rules for the moment," answered Jackson, "now are you going to go and cook us something, I'll come and help you in a moment."
"I'm not really hungry," Tony argued back, "I could just get you a sandwich or something."
"No Tony, I want to eat with you and I want something that involves vegetables and is warm," answered Jackson, "now go on and conjure something up."
Tony knew that there was no arguing to be had and truth be told he was tired of fighting, of arguing, of hurting people, of hurting himself. He moved through to the kitchen and started raiding the fridge for anything that might be passable as a healthy meal, his Dad only tended to get lots of vegetables in when he was expecting company and the events of this weekend had been anything but expected. He fished out some onions and peppers along with a courgette and a few tomatoes and set about chopping them up. Grating the remains of a block of cheese and crushing some garlic too, he started rummaging through the cupboards to find some pasta.
Jackson joined him a short while later, the room cleared for now, but a trip to the store to find stain remover to get rid of the blood was going to be required.
"So what are you cooking up for us Tony?" Jackson enquired.
"Vegetable pasta bake," answered the younger man, "Dad hadn't had chance to do any shopping yet, it was all I could find."
"Sounds as if it will be tasty and healthy," commented Jackson, "how long until it will be ready?"
"About 40 minutes," answered Tony, "I'll clean up some of the pans while we wait."
"Do you want a hand?" asked Jackson.
Tony shrugged, "I don't know Sir, I mean, I know we need to talk and all that, and I want to tell you and try to fix this but I also feel like I just want to be on my own and run and hide."
"I understand that Son but do you remember what your Dad gave you when you were young and wanted to run and hide?"
Tony's hand went instinctively to the key that still hung on the cord around his neck next to his heart. "Yeah I remember," he replied.
"Then you know that the only place you should be running to is right here," said Jackson, "seems to me that you have forgotten that recently."
"Perhaps," muttered Tony, "but its not like I could get back here when I was afloat."
"I know that Tony but it also stands for the fact that you can always call home and ask for help," said Jackson, "you could have called and written more than you did. You seemed to lock yourself away from us. Why?"
"It felt like I'd been abandoned, we'd all been ripped apart and I was alone," Tony continued to scrub vigourously at a chopping board, so much so that Jackson thought he was in danger of washing it away.
"Tony when are you going to work out that we aren't ever going to leave you all alone. Distance is one thing but phone calls and letters they shorten that distance and the time apart and if you had needed to leave NCIS to get back to us we would have helped you, your Dad and me," responded Jackson, "we love you to much to lose you, to see you unhappy, but you have to tell us because we don't always see it until its too late."
"But Granddad, I'm an adult now, I can't keep running to you guys with all of my problems and Dad was going through enough grief of his own loosing Jenny. I know he still loved her and he would never have let her take off by herself like I did," said Tony.
"Oh really, you know that do you?" asked Jackson.
"Sure, it's not the way he operates," replied Tony.
"Then you and he need to sit down and speak about how he felt when he let her go off after Le Grenouille by herself and then Jeanne tried to blame you for the murder, or perhaps about what happened in France years ago when he and Dr Mallard had to escape as fugitives," suggested Jackson.
"She helped them escape France," retorted Tony.
"Yes I know but have you ever sat down and asked him why he needed to escape?" asked Jackson.
"Well no I thought he would tell me if it was anything important," Tony had given up totally on the washing now and dried his hands on a towel nearby. "I guess I just assumed it was Jenny to the rescue rather than her having caused the need for them to be rescued."
"Your Dad loved Jenny but he knew how she operated and he got hurt every time she went off and did something like that and he felt guilty he couldn't stop her and he felt angry when it started to pull you in too," Jackson paused and watch it all sink in slowly, "he was distraught when he watched it pull you in to the very danger he needed to protect you from, he felt guilty he had not been there to stop you getting involved in the whole Frog case in the start and he was just starting to get over that when Jeanne accused you of the murder and then his guilt at letting Jenny do her own thing and not stopping it started all over again."
"But he didn't get himself into trouble with drink or with theft did he?" retorted Tony, anger at his own actions beginning to return to the surface once again.
"Do you know how much bourbon he got through?" asked Jackson, "do you know how many pieces of his boat he smashed up in anger late at night in rage and anger at himself that he didn't protect you better?"
"It's not the same Granddad," Tony responded even louder his temper resurfacing, "he didn't destroy his family and his career, he didn't kill anyone."
"You didn't kill anyone either, from what I heard Jenny was shot by the bad guys not you," argued Jackson, "guys who she chose to deliberately go after, alone."
"I should have been there," yelled Tony, "instead I went off having a good time, if I'd started to look for her earlier I'd have been there."
"Yeah and you might both have been shot and Ziva too," argued Jackson.
"But that was my job," screamed Tony, "that's what I signed up for."
"What to die?" retorted Jackson.
"If needs be, to put my life on the line, to protect and serve," yelled Tony, "hell I even think that's in the fucking manual."
Jackson had never tolerated swearing and cussing and long ago had taken Tony to task on it and now was going to be no different. He picked up the still damp chopping board from the side and delivered three swift swats with it to Tony's backside.
Tony gasped more in shock than in pain, albeit did deliver a nasty sting to his seat. "What the fuck…"
He never got to finish that sentence before another three swats were delivered.
"When do you ever get away with using language like that around me young man?" asked Jackson as he delivered the last swat.
Tony wanted to argue back that he was too old for this and how dare his Granddad smack him like a child but he knew better than to argue with him, he knew better than to swear in the first place and those six fairly hefty swats had broken the back of his anger at himself.
Delivering one further hefty swat across the top of his thighs, Jackson said, "I asked you a question young man I expect an answer."
"Never Sir," replied Tony reaching around to rub the sting out of his backside. Jackson could hear from the tone of his voice that the anger levels had at least dropped a little.
"Good then lets try to talk like two civilized men shall we?" he asked.
Sadly as anger subsided sarcasm crept in and Tony responded, "uh that's kind of hard to believe when you're wielding a chopping board like a club and treating me like a kid."
As he said it Tony knew he had gone too far and instantly regretted it when his Granddad delivered another three blistering swats to his rear end.
"Next comment out of your mouth like that and you lose the jeans," said Jackson seeing a solitary tear run from Tony's eye.
"I'm sorry," Tony almost whispered.
Reaching up to wipe the tear away from his Grandsons face Jackson apologized too, "and I'm sorry that I felt that I had to do that but further anger and sarcasm aren't going to help you and we aren't going to get anywhere if we fall out. I won't let you push me and your Dad away."
Tony simply nodded.
"Good then we have a bit of time before the oven timer goes off so why don't you tell me about being on that ship and the drinking?"
Tony started to explain how the drinking had started the night he had got back to Washington after that fateful trip to California, how the night before he had flown out to get on the ship he'd downed a bottle of scotch by himself, how on board he'd been desperate to find more alcohol to take the pain away and had uncovered an illegal card school on board and rather than bust the crew for it had joined them because of their stash of illegal booze which he then had access to.
His granddad froze in fear when Tony described how one night when returning from the card game he had nearly fallen overboard. How he had then sobered up but needed another crutch to cling to, how he had grabbed out at comfort food in the form of chocolate and how when he returned home and had put up with all of the comments from Vance about how wonderful McGee was and how people like Tony were out dated he had hot out at the vending machine and discovered it's secret.
They were momentarily interrupted by the oven timer and Tony took the bake out of it and served it up for him and his Granddad, his appetite seeming to have resurfaced just a little.
"Shall we go sit in the room?" asked Tony hoping to be able to cushion his bottom which still felt a little sore.
"No just here on these nice hard dining room chairs will be alright and more civilized," responded Jackson knowing exactly what Tony was trying to avoid.
As the two sat and ate they continued to talk and Tony could feel a burden lifting from him which each line. Why had he not done this sooner?
By the end of the meal, Jackson sat back and studied his grandson who was tucking into a second large helping of the dinner. "So do we agree that in reality there are only some of those things that you should have felt any guilt about?"
Swallowing a mouthful of pasta, Tony nodded and raised his eyes to look at Jackson, "yes Sir."
"And what are they Tony?" he asked.
"I should have come to Dad and you sooner about all of this, I should never have stolen the chocolate, I know better than to steal whatever the start of it or the feelings of justification, and in no circumstances should I ever strike out at my Dad or anyone else when I'm acting in anger."
"Good lad, now you are going to tell your Dad all of this and take whatever punishment he thinks fitting, you hear?" he checked.
"Yes Sir," sighed Tony, "do you think he can forgive me?"
"I think he already has," answered Jackson, "you've just not yet given him the chance to tell you that."
Having finished the tidy up, and having packed some clean clothes for his Dad, Tony and Jackson made their way back to the hospital.
Ducky smiled at the two of them as they entered the room.
"I don't know what you said to him Jackson but he has been the perfect patient and stayed away from the coffee," Ducky commented with a glint in his eye and a smirk on his face especially when he saw the scowl Gibbs gave him. "I'll leave you to it and go get something to eat."
"Thanks Donald," Jackson smiled, "for everything."
With that Jackson pulled up the one comfortable seat in the room and sat down aside his son.
"How's the head feeling?" he asked.
"Would be better if I had a coffee," pouted Gibbs.
"Leroy look at yourself," chuckled his father, "you look like a spoilt little kid, a day or two without coffee won't kill you."
"I'm not gonna win this argument am I?" asked Gibbs.
"No Son, you're not so give up on it now," nodded Jackson.
Gibbs turned towards Tony who was still stood up by the foot of the bed.
"Are you alright Tony?" he asked searching his face for signs of migraine or illness.
"Yes Dad," he replied, "Granddad and I talked."
"Well why don't you grab a seat from over there and sit yourself down and tell me how that went?"
Tony turned to stare at the hard plastic seats stacked three high in the corner of the room.
"So the talk you and Granddad had was not just a verbal one?" said Gibbs fixing a look on his son.
"No Sir, I made the mistake of swearing at him when he was in the vicinity of a chopping board," answered Tony.
"Oh I see," grinned Gibbs, "you too learnt that you are never too old for a swat across the rear and that Granddad is a master chef and adept at using all of the tools of the trade."
"Something like that," replied Tony sharing that moment of mutual understanding with his Dad.