Tony was helping Gibbs with the dishes after the three of them finished off the stew Jackson had prepared for their dinner, when Jackson announced that he was going to sit out on the deck for a short nap. They acknowledged him before Gibbs turned off the sink and joined Tony in drying the rest of the plates.
"I was thinking about going for a run after while," Tony said. "Gotta build up my strength if I ever wanna get out in the field again."
"Okay," Gibbs replied. "I'll go with ya. You should start out slow; last thing you want is to get hurt from tryin' too hard and end up delaying yourself even more."
Tony nodded, "Right..." What Gibbs had said was logical. He agreed, even. It was sensible and realistic. But something inside him just burned... Apparently, Gibbs hadn't missed it.
"What is it?" he inquired.
"Nothing," he shook his head and attempted a small smile.
Gibbs wasn't buying. As he moved to put away a few of the dried dishes, he continued to look at Tony expectantly.
But Tony was just as observant, and noticed this right away. Gibbs wanted the truth, but as far as the truth went, Tony wasn't even exactly sure what he was feeling. So as he handed the dried dishes over to his boss, he tried to analyze what it was.
"You're thinkin' awfully hard," Gibbs said after a while. "What's on your mind?"
With the last dish put away, Tony glanced at Gibbs before passing by him to get to the fridge. "Tryin' to figure out why I'm frustrated," he replied as he grabbed a beer, handing it to his boss before grabbing one for himself.
Gibbs snorted as they walked out to the living room, "Got plenty of reason to be."
"I suppose," he sighed as he sunk down onto the couch; Gibbs sitting down on the other side of it. "Just can't pinpoint what it is at this exact moment. And a big part of me really doesn't wanna go through the list."
Gibbs nodded in acknowledgment and took a swig from the bottle. "Gonna be kinda chilly out this evening," he said after a while. "I think I've got a better idea than running, if you're up for it."
Tony looked over at him with narrowed eyes of curiosity.
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"Boss, I can't do this," Tony said as Gibbs pulled the car into the NCIS parking lot. "There's gonna be other agents in there, and I don't wanna be seen like this."
"Relax, DiNozzo," Gibbs told him. "McGee and Ziva worked it out so we'll have the gym to ourselves. Besides," he said as he pulled into a spot and turned off the engine, "You look a lot better than you give yourself credit for."
Tony looked over at him with a smirk, "You comin' on to me, Boss?"
Gibbs let out a small, amused laugh, "You wish, Tony," he said as he pushed open his door to get out.
*~.~*
Tony had never before been so grateful for drawstring, as he slipped on his gym shorts in the locker room. Gibbs had been right; the gym was empty when they'd arrived. And so far, there'd been no signs of his teammates, either.
But speak of the devil... in walks McGee, just moments later. "Hey, Tony," he said with a smile Tony wasn't really used to seeing much.
For a moment, he wanted to make some kind of teasing comment, but something inside of him was suddenly happy about his presence. "Hey, Probie," he replied as he tied his right gym-shoe where he'd propped his foot up on the bench. "Come to pulverize me in the ring?" he smirked. 'Right...so, no teasing the Probie, but it's okay to take shots at myself...?' he thought.
Tim furrowed a brow, as expected, "N-no, nothing like... I just came to say hello, really; see how you're doing."
Tony put his foot on the floor and stood. "I'm fine," he said with a grin. "Think I might need to go shopping; look at this," he held his arms out and looked down at his attire. "I'm swimming in this stuff. This is ridiculous, ya know?" he looked back up at Tim. "I can't pull off this look as well as you can, McTwiggy."
Tim smiled and shook his head, a bit relieved to see Tony at least talking like himself again. "Not in those clothes," he commented. "I'm pretty sure you've said, on more than one occasion, that 'the clothes make the man'. In fact, I'm fairly certain you live by that motto."
"And none of them fit now," he argued. "I look like I'm playing dress-up in daddy's clothes."
"So, go shopping," McGee let out a small laugh. "I know you like shopping, so don't try and deny it."
"If I shop for skinny-clothes, that'd be admitting defeat," he retorted. "I don't plan on being this way for long."
"It'll be long enough for you to get some use out of something that fits," he argued. "And if you don't get mustard or pizza sauce stains all over them, I might just buy the suits from you when they don't fit you anymore." Tony gave him an inquisitive look. "What? We're the same height; same fit practically, right now. But I'm betting you could probably still kick my ass in the ring," he smirked.
Tony cocked his head, slightly amused, "Why don't you just lend me some of the suits you already have?"
"Because," he smiled, "You'd hate them, and you'd complain and be miserable the entire time you were wearing them. You hate my clothes, Tony. Don't deny it just to be nice. I know they're not your style. So, I'm not even leaving it open as an option."
The senior field agent looked at him with a bit of fondness at how well Tim seemed to know him. When did that happen? "Don't sell yourself short, Tim."
"What?"
"About sparring," he clarified. "I'm betting that, if your mutt could take me down so easily in the back yard, you could probably have a fair chance of taking the win in the ring right now."
"Gee, thanks," he laughed. "Nice to know you have enough confidence in my fighting capabilities that I might be as good as Jethro in 'playful' mode."
"I didn't mean..." Tony fought with himself. He did partially mean it to tease him, but a part of him really didn't want to offend the man. What the hell is going on?
McGee could see his internal struggle clearly on his face, which was new... Well, new for their Tony. "Hey, I know what you meant," Tim told him. "If I can't take a joke on this team by now, I don't think I should still be here," he smirked.
Tony felt a twinge of guilt as he thought about his probie warming a seat in Cyber Crimes because he'd scared him off. No, really...What. The. Fuck?
Desperate to change the subject that seemed to be throwing Tony for a loop, Tim asked, "You wanna catch a movie when you're done here? We still have the third Star Wars we never got to."
Tony met his eyes with feigned horror. "Why does that sound so...ridiculously exciting?" he asked in a higher-pitched voice.
McGee grinned, "I'd like to think it's because you've always been a closeted nerd, and that's why you give me such a hard time."
Tony narrowed his eyes, "It takes more than movie preferences to make you a nerd, McGoo. I am not in the closet..."
"You two done in here?" Gibbs asked as he entered the locker room. "I was hoping to actually use the gym while we were here... Unless, of course, you'd rather discuss your 'closet' issues in private?"
"Uh...Boss, we..." McGee stuttered, embarrassingly.
"We're done, Boss," Tony finished for him, and started heading out of the locker room.
McGee cleared his throat as he followed beside him, "So um...movie tonight?"
"Oh, uh...yeah, sure, Tim."
"Move the stuff down to the living room," Gibbs said. "We'll all watch it. Dad's still there, and the door's open."
"Okay, Boss," McGee said and made his way toward the exit.
"Don't drop my TV, McMover!"
"Hey, I got it up there, didn't I?" he yelled back.
"It's okay; I'm not worried. McGemcity can get me a new one if he drops it down the stairs," Tony snuck in before McGee was out of sight. With a grin, he turned around to face Gibbs who was holding Tony's gloves. "Can't believe you wanna watch Star Wars with us, Boss."
Gibbs cocked his head as he slid on and secured the first glove over Tony's right hand. "Haven't seen it in years. Could be entertaining, I suppose."
"But ya didn't watch the first two, so it might seem a little confusing."
"I remember enough to know what's goin' on," he quirked a brow as he secured the second glove and began putting on his own. "You ready?"
"Guess there's only one way to find out," he gave a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, and they both climbed into the ring.
"Ten minutes this round," Gibbs said. "I don't want ya to overdo it."
"Ten minutes? C'mon, Boss! I can do more than that..."
"We'll see after ten minutes, won't we?" he shot back and got into ready position.
"Sounds like a challenge, to me," Tony grinned and readied himself as well.
After circling each other for a few moments, and some of Tony's typical bouncing around and antagonizing, which for some reason always amused Gibbs, Tony took the first swing and missed. "That all ya got, DiNozzo?"
Tony laughed, "Just gettin' warmed up, Boss."
"While you're doin' that, why don't you tell me that list of things you said was frustrating you."
"Ah," Tony smirked and ducked from Gibbs' swing. "I see what you're tryin' to do here. You want me to get pissed and take it out on you here in the ring." He dodged another swing and then took one immediately afterward, which Gibbs managed to dodge as well.
"Well," he smirked, "You could try to take it out on me."
"Funny!" he jabbed right and hit Gibbs in the shoulder.
"I think someone opened a door; just felt a breeze," he antagonized.
"Says the man who hasn't landed a single hit," Tony retorted. Gibbs swung and hit Tony low in the side, but not very hard. "Touche. But you're goin' easy on me."
"Isn't really about me kickin' your ass," he replied.
"Right. 'Cause I can't take it right now. Nothin' much left to protect my bones and internal organs."
"You want me to send you back to the hospital, then by all means, let's go all out," Gibbs said before taking a fairly strong swing. But Tony jumped back and came forward with a blow to Gibbs' gut. "Not bad, DiNozzo. But you keep jumpin' around like that, and you'll lose your wind fast."
"Jumpin' around also makes me a harder target," he shot back and took another swing, hitting Gibbs in the jaw, causing him to grunt. Tony stopped, "You okay?" Gibbs took advantage of the non-moving target and returned the favor to the gut. Tony folded over a bit with a squeaky grunt, which soon turned to laughter, "Good one, Boss."
"Ya let your guard down."
"No shit," he replied, taking another swing. "Let my guard down that day in the car, too," he said as he dodged Gibbs' swing. "Had I really been paying attention," he swung and hit Gibbs' side, "I would've seen him crawling out. Could've had time to pull my gun."
"You in the habit of checkin' your back seat every few minutes while you're drivin'?"
"No. I'm not. But ya know what? I'm not in the habit of checking over my shoulder when I'm out running, either. But apparently," he took another swing, "I need to start doing both. Ya know, make sure there's not some random perp I may or may not have gotten incarcerated at some point or another that happens to also be completely insane."
Gibbs was merely blocking punches now, letting Tony get everything out of his system as his words became more and more bitter with every swing.
"Maybe I should just start taking them out, instead. It's not like this is the first time someone's tried to get back at me for some reason or another. Fuck if it won't be the last. What the hell is it about me, Gibbs? Huh? I mean, what the hell did I do to him?"
"Wasn't your fault," Gibbs replied, simply.
Tony let out a small laugh before taking another swing, "That's what my nannies used to tell me." Gibbs' gut clenched and he narrowed his eyes. "Maybe I just have the kinda face people wanna pound, huh? Granted, Cullen didn't do much to my face, in comparison with the rest of me... It does kinda feel like it gives great pleasure to some people..."
"Tony..."
"You wanted me to tell you what was frustrating me, didn't you?" he glared at him before taking another swing. "Almost my entire life, I've supposedly been protecting this little kid...this ten-year old I once was; makin' it so he wouldn't have to be afraid anymore. Then it turns out, really he's been protecting me!" he swung again. "Everything I thought I was just bottling up, he's been absorbing. And now we're both one person, Gibbs. And I have no godamn idea how to do any of this anymore," his voice cracked with the last punch thrown and he dropped his hands and took a few cautious steps back. "I don't know how to do this..." the anger drained from his voice and was replaced with something akin to hopelessness.
"Don't know how to do what, Tony?" Gibbs asked, taking a step forward.
Tony met his eyes for a moment, then looked back down to the floor. "I don't know how to stop feeling...so much. Don't know how to hold things in like I've always done. I can't. I just can't...and it's killin' me, Boss," he met his eyes again. Gibbs saw the wetness in them. "Look at me! I can't be like this! I can't start crying every time I get frustrated! Boss, what the fuck...what am I supposed to do?"
Gibbs took another step forward, "You let it out. You let yourself get pissed off and you let it out."
"How the hell am I supposed to do that?"
Gibbs pushed him a bit roughly and Tony narrowed his eyes at him in question. He stepped up to him again and shoved Tony once more. "What the hell, Gibbs?"
"What are you gonna do about it?"
"You keep pushin' me and you'll find out," Tony gritted his teeth. Gibbs pushed him again, without hesitation. Tony growled and pushed him back. Gibbs pulled back his right fist, readying for a swing, but Tony blocked it and landed one of his own.
Gibbs could feel the powerful surge of strength behind Tony's rage. Any other man might have been afraid. But Gibbs stood his ground, blocking as best he could the punches that rained down on him.
Tony didn't even see his boss anymore. Instead, he saw his father... He saw everyone who'd ever hurt him... He saw Cullen...
After a while, he started to hear an enraged yelling; eventually figuring out that it was actually coming from himself. And then he felt himself tackled down to the ground. He clamped his eyes shut and struggled against the mass that was holding him pinned down.
"Tony!" he heard from above him. He opened his eyes and saw Gibbs looking down at him with concern.
"Get off me," he grunted. "Let me up."
"Not if you're gonna hurt yourself," he replied.
"I'm...just let me up!"
Gibbs looked at him for another moment before pushing himself up off of him, and pulling Tony up enough to sit. Tony moved his legs around under himself, with intentions of then pushing himself up to stand, but he came to the realization of just how out of breath he was; exhausted to the point that standing right now was probably out of the question. So he sat there on his knees...
That's when he realized that he'd just pretty much wailed the crap out of his boss...and Gibbs had let him. He met his eyes, "I'm sorry..." he started, but felt himself begin to crumble; tears beginning to force their way out with shaking sobs that Tony had absolutely no control over.
Before he could even register what was happening, he felt himself drawn into an embrace. If it weren't for the obvious reason that he was the only other person there, the smell of sawdust would've verified that it was Gibbs. As if he weren't embarrassed to shit as it was...
"Damnit, Gibbs, I can't...stop this..."
Gibbs held tighter to his friend, "You've been holdin' things in for most of your life, Tony. A slow leak now and then, but that doesn't make up for how much you swallow down. Now you gotta feel them full force, and it's gonna hurt like hell. But eventually, it won't anymore. Then ya just gotta work on day to day. But right now, Tony, I don't want you to feel ashamed. Ya got me? This doesn't make you weak." He felt Tony's shaky intake of breath, but heard no response. "Did ya hear me, Tony?"
"I hear you, Boss," he said in barely a whisper.
"You're gonna be okay," Gibbs assured him; his still gloved hand patting the back of Tony's head. "I promise you..."
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tbc...
A/N: Holy freaking... Sorry it took so long to update. It took forEVER to write this chapter—or rather, to come up with enough motivation to do so... I'm giving myself some slack here, and saying I'll have this next one ready by Monday.