WARNING! Reference to Creepy Un-mother-like behavior. References made to sexual abuse on a child. It will NOT be explicit, but be warned—content may be disturbing to some readers. Skip the part about Tony/Gibbs in the apartment if you'd like or PM me and I'll give you a run-down of what happens.

Thanks as always to my brave and dear friend for all your help with this story. Your bravery every day continues to astound me.

No Chains Holding Me
Chapter 37: Work Hard To Forget

It didn't take long for Cheryl to return and she was truly amazed by the artwork that was laid out before her. "Well," she said. "You two are certainly quite good artists!"

"We sketch crime scenes…have to learn how to draw to do that," Tony said softly.

"I suppose I always thought that was just sketching diagrams," Cheryl mused. "This though…this is art!"

"We aren't as good as Kate," Gibbs commented. "She's the team's sketch artist. She's brilliant." Tony nodded in agreement.

"Well let's take a look at these pictures." She collected the drawings off of the table and then put a mirror out on the table. "Gibbs let's do yours first," Cheryl said. Gibbs nodded in agreement. He was alright with being the guinea pig to go first in this exercise. She hadn't hurt them yet, and he didn't figure she was going to start now.

"Here is the picture that Tony drew of you," Cheryl handed it to him. She set the mirror up in front of Gibbs. "I want you to compare what you see, to what he sees."

Gibbs looked at the picture of himself. Tony had used colors sparingly in his picture, so that only his eyes were colored. He'd picked out a bright icy blue that, upon looking in the mirror, was close to his actual eye color. The rest of the picture he'd done in black and white. Gibbs noticed that he had a lot less wrinkles when Tony drew him, and he could see smile lines around his mouth, and laugh lines crinkling around his eyes.

"Wow," Gibbs breathed. He looked at himself in the mirror. He saw the scar on his forehead from the explosion in Kuwait, and the way the barber had cut his hair just slightly crooked this last trim. He could see all the blemishes and spots on his face that told him he was getting older, and the slight gap in his teeth that'd been there since he was a kid. He shared his findings with Cheryl and Tony and smiled shyly at Tony who blushed at the praise for his drawing.

Cheryl turned the mirror towards Tony and passed him the picture Gibbs drew. "Your turn," she said with a smile. Tony smiled nervously and lifted the picture.

Where Tony had drawn Gibbs in almost all black and white sketch, Gibbs had made use of the vast array of colored pencils. If there was one thing about Tony's picture that stood out to him, it was how alive Gibbs made him look. The colors surrounding him were bright and vibrant, and Gibbs had perfectly matched Tony's hair color and eye color as well. He drew the half smile that graced Tony's face most of the time they were together, and he even managed to capture what looked suspiciously like a twinkle in his eye. The colors were light and fun, and told a story of a happy man filled with life.

Tony looked from the picture to the mirror and back again. He could feel a lump forming in his throat as he searched desperately for the man that Gibbs saw. His eyes looked old and tired, and his face held wrinkles that hadn't been there only a few months before. His hair stuck up at odd angles, not in its groovy disarray that he typically wore it in, his clothes hung on him awkwardly because of all the weight he'd lost…he didn't look anything like the man in the picture. The man in the picture looked happy. Full of life. Full of…pizzazz. Staring at himself? He just looked…old. He looked tired. He looked defeated. He sighed.

"Tony?" Cheryl was watching Tony carefully, noticing how quiet he was, and gauging his reaction. "You want to tell us what you see?"

Tony took a deep breath and swallowed hard, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. "I um…I see…" he closed his eyes, ashamed as two tears dripped down his cheeks. "I see someone who isn't there anymore. He's gone…I can't…I can't find him."

"Tell me what you see, Tony," Cheryl said patiently.

Gibbs scooted a little closer and ran his hand lightly over Tony's shoulders. "Ok Tony," he said softly. "It's ok."

Tony took another deep breath and opened his eyes again. He was almost reluctant to look in the mirror. "I see…I see someone who looks like he has the weight of the whole world on his shoulders. I see…I look…I look defeated," Tony said shakily. "I let them beat me…and now…now I don't even recognize myself anymore." More tears dripped from his eyes. "Who am I? Who is this guy?" He gestured at the mirror. "Where'd I go?"

"Look at the picture Tony. Tell me what you need to change about your appearance to make this person come back," Cheryl said. "Where are the differences?"

"I'm too thin…my face isn't even shaped the same way anymore…my hair is…and I've got this…lightness about me and it's gone now…" Tony whipped around to face Gibbs. "You made me look so alive! You drew me and made me look so happy! I don't…I can't…Gibbs I can't even see that person in here," he indicated the mirror.

"That's funny," Gibbs said turning the mirror so they could each see both of them in the reflection. "I see the person I drew. He's right beside me," Gibbs looked over at him and smiled. "You're still in there. I promise you."

Tony leaned on Gibbs, emotions overtaking him for a moment. Gibbs ran a hand up and down his back and soothed him gently. Cheryl smiled sadly at them, at the progress they were making. A few moments passed this way before Tony regained control of himself. Cheryl passed him the ever-present box of tissues. "Thanks," Tony muttered, and he blew his nose. "Well I almost made it through a whole session without blubbering like a…" Tony stopped when he saw the look on Cheryl's face. "Without crying," he corrected.

The rest of the session passed calmly, and when they left Tony brought the picture Gibbs had drawn with them. Cheryl had instructed Tony to hang the picture on the bathroom mirror and whenever he showered he was supposed to take time to look at himself through his eyes and Gibbs' eyes, and work on seeing the things in the mirror that Gibbs saw on the drawing. That was his homework for the week.

Gibbs smiled when Tony slid into the front seat of the truck. The protection detail was close by but not hovering, there in case they were needed, but letting Gibbs and Tony live their own lives. Gibbs pulled out in traffic and Tony looked at him. "Can we go to my apartment?" he asked suddenly.

Gibbs looked a bit surprised, but nodded. "Ok," he said. "What we gonna do there?"

"I would like to check on the place and grab some movies and books, and maybe some jeans that actually fit," Tony said with a sheepish chuckle.

Gibbs nodded and pointed the car towards the Georgetown District. It was about a fifteen minute drive to Tony's apartment from Cheryl's office, and the two enjoyed the day. The sun was shining, and despite it being late January, the temperatures were not bitterly cold. Gibbs could see their detail in the rearview mirror, but they were doing as he'd requested and were not following directly behind them. They pulled into Tony's apartment building parking lot, and Gibbs clued the agents in on what was happening.

"There's a little diner down on the corner," Gibbs said. "Two buildings away. Keep your cell phones on you and if I need backup for any reason, I'll call you."

They were operating with an altered protection detail—it wasn't done the way things normally were. Security wasn't quite as tight. Gibbs and Tony got out of the truck and headed for the building. Tony keyed their way inside and they started up the stairs. They took their time, they were in no rush, and before long they'd reached Tony's apartment.

"Been a while since I've been here," Tony said.

"Few weeks," Gibbs agreed.

Tony unlocked the door and it swung open. They stepped inside and began checking the place out. It seemed to be in good order—it appeared that someone had stopped by and cleaned it up, keeping the dust bunnies at bay. Tony was fairly certain the apartment would pass the white glove test—which he had to admit wouldn't have even happened while he was living there full time. He moved to the bedroom and was stuffing clothes, hair goop, and movies into a duffle bag when there was a beep on the intercom. The intercom was attached to the lock on the door to the building. Any visitors had to be buzzed in by someone inside or had to use a key.

Tony stepped out into the hallway, confused by having a visitor, and looked curiously at Gibbs. Gibbs shrugged. "Dunno," he said. "Want me to buzz it?"

Tony shook his head and stepped forward. He pressed the button on the intercom. "Hello?" he called. A moment later the intercom buzzed and a painfully familiar voice spoke. 'Anthony? Let us in dear. It's cold outside.'

Tony very nearly panicked at the unexpected surprise, but caught himself. He didn't know why this was so upsetting to him. "I can do this," he mumbled, mostly to himself. Gibbs heard him and raised an eyebrow. Tony punched the button on the intercom to unlock the door. He glanced at Gibbs who looked curious, but kept quiet. A moment later there was a knock on the door. Tony glanced in the eyehole on the door and his gut tightened. Why was this making him so nervous? Unlocking the door, he opened it and was greeted by two smiling people, both in their mid-50s, graying hair, forming wrinkles, but there was no mistaking the identity of these two people—

"Mom? Dad? What are you—oof!"

Tony stepped back as a large hand was shoved at him. The hand obviously belonged to his father, a large framed, smiling man with bright green eyes. Gibbs stood back and watched the reunion, watched the confusion on Tony's face meld into…more confusion. Tony never mentioned his parents. Gibbs had no idea they were coming to town, and he was willing to bet a paycheck that Tony had no idea either. "Oh Son it's so good to see you! We've missed you!"

"Hi…Dad…" Tony said slowly, his arm being pumped up and down methodically.

Tony's mother stepped forward then, and Gibbs' eyes narrowed. There was something odd about the look in her eyes…

"Hello Anthony," his mother purred in a sultry voice. "I've missed you so much!" She slid her hands down her son's back and drew him slowly to her, meshing their bodies together in what could only be described as a…sensual embrace. Gibbs' eyebrows raised as the woman's hands trailed lower and lower until her fingertips nestled in Tony's back pockets. There was something hinky going on here. Gibbs' gaze darkened slightly, his gut tingling.

"Hi Mom," Tony said, but he sounded very uncomfortable, and was working to untangle himself from the embrace. Every time he'd push away she'd draw him in again. It was…weird, to say the least. Gibbs' gut was tingling more. He decided to help Tony out.

"Mrs. DiNozzo," he said politely, stepping forward, hand extended. "My name is Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. I am Tony's boss and…"

"And lover," Tony said, finally prying his mother off of him and taking two steps backward. At their shocked looks—and did Mrs. DiNozzo look hurt?—Tony sighed. "I'm gay. We've had this discussion. More than once. Accept it. It's how I am."

"Oh my little Anthony," Mrs. DiNozzo said, trailing her fingers lightly down Tony's arm. Tony shivered and closed his eyes. Gibbs thought it seemed that his whole body had tensed at her touch. What the hell was going on here? What was he missing? "Why are you being so snappish to Momma?"

"I um…" his expression shut down a little more and Gibbs' gut churned harder. "I'm sorry Mom," he whispered.

"Why it's ok babydoll," Mrs. DiNozzo cooed, drawing him close to her again. He was stiff, resistant to the embrace. He didn't want it, but he didn't know how to get away from it. He opened his eyes and looked around for a means of escape. Gibbs could see the panic beginning to flare in Tony's eyes over being trapped by this woman and decided to step in once again. This woman didn't seem to want to take the hint.

"Mrs. DiNozzo we were only here for a moment so Tony could grab some things," Gibbs said. "Let's let him finish up, shall we? Come look at this view," he led her to the windows.

Mrs. DiNozzo smiled up at him, but the smile for him was different than the one Tony got. It was…polite. Not affectionate. Not the sultry gaze that was bestowed on her only son moments before. "Special Agent Gibbs," she said softly. "What are you doing?"

"I was simply trying to entertain you while Tony finished gathering his things up. I thought you'd enjoy the view of the park. It's lovely, isn't it?" A quick glance over his shoulder told him that Tony had left the room. A moment later, Gibbs heard a door close firmly down the hall.

"Yes it's lovely," Mrs. DiNozzo agreed. "But I didn't come here to see the trees out the window. I came here for one reason only and that is to see my son. Now if you'll excuse me." She tugged her arm away from Gibbs' gentle grasp and stepped down the hall.

Before Gibbs could follow, Tony Senior stepped up to him. "Forgive my wife," he said uneasily. "She gets so excited about seeing Tony it…frustrates her that he doesn't want to be closer."

Alarm bells sounded in Gibbs' head, but he kept his expression neutral. "Why doesn't he want to be closer?"

Senior shrugged. "I wish I knew. I don't know my boy anymore, Gibbs. He was always such a needy child growing up. He was always sucking up to the housekeepers. We always tried to discipline him and teach him how to be a good, respectable man, but as he grew up, he grew more and more distant. He didn't want to come home if he went to a friend's house. He didn't want to come home when he was away at boarding school or summer camp. He was always so stubborn and willful…He never wanted to be home if he had the option to be somewhere else. At home he was always so…despondent. Borderline rude. Mouthy. Angry. It's confusing to me. We always tried to do everything in our power to make sure that Tony had everything he could ever need or want…he always came across as so ungrateful, please don't misunderstand, we love our son, but he was always…distant. Closed off. It was like he shut down whenever we were around."

Gibbs' raised his eyebrows slightly. "And you can't remember anything happening that would have caused that?"

"Nothing I know of," Senior shook his head sadly. "We always wanted him to be independent though…I suppose we got what we asked for."

Something was wrong here, very wrong. Gibbs had a feeling it had everything to do with the weird way Tony's mother was treating him. And wasn't his mother dead?

"Forgive me if this sounds crass," Gibbs said in a low voice. "But I thought I recalled Tony telling me that his mother had um…that she'd passed."

Senior nodded sadly. "She did. She was in a car accident when Tony was three. This is Tony's step mother. We were married when Tony was five. I don't know if he even remembers his mother or not, he was so young when she died. She told him he should call her Mommy so he did. I don't really understand their relationship. She took an interest in him that I have never comprehended."

Gibbs nodded. He glanced up when a stricken looking Mrs. DiNozzo stepped back into the living room. "Perhaps this was not a good time to visit," she said uneasily. She looked at her husband. "We should go."

More alarm bells sounded in Gibbs' head and his instinctive reaction was to run to Tony's side and find out what the hell was going on.

Senior looked at his wife. "Should I go say goodbye?" he asked, though it was easy to see the reluctance he was feeling.

"I don't think he wants to see either of us," Mrs. DiNozzo said stiffly.

"Tell him to call me," Senior told Gibbs. "Will you?"

Gibbs nodded. He didn't like Senior, even more than he ever figured he would. His wife was a real piece of work, too. Mrs. DiNozzo smiled at Gibbs. "Was very nice to meet you sir," she said sweetly, not meaning a word of it.

Gibbs stared evenly at her, keeping his expression neutral. "Don't call me sir," he said. "I work for a living."

"Goodbye Agent Gibbs," Senior said.

Gibbs nodded. "Goodbye," he said simply.

Mrs. DiNozzo sniffed and was out the door without a backwards glance. Senior followed his wife and didn't even look back. It was obvious to Gibbs that something had happened. Something that had caused Tony to push his mom away and send her packing.

Once the door was closed, he raced over to it and locked the knob, deadbolt, and the chain. He noticed that someone had come by and fixed the locks on the door where he'd broken them before. Probably Ducky or Palmer, he figured. Then he turned and headed to the hall, looking for Tony.

xxx

Tony was in the bathroom, leaned heavily over the toilet, gagging but not throwing up. His mother had finally left him alone. Thank God. He didn't understand what was wrong or why he was reacting so violently to his mom. She'd treated him just as she always had…she'd always been too touchy feely for Tony's tastes, but today…something about it just rang out that it was wrong and bad and Tony felt feelings of fear and guilt and shame rising in him, and the only thing he could think to do was push his mother—his dear mother whom he loved so much—away. He couldn't be near her. Couldn't touch her or let her touch him. He felt dirty in a way he hadn't in weeks and it made him wonder why. He rocked back on his heels and listened to the sounds floating through his apartment. He could make out the faint sounds of conversation, but couldn't distinguish the words. A moment later he heard his front door close and heard the rattle of the locks. He tensed knowing what would come next and shame washed over him again.

There was a light knock on the door, a familiar sound that belonged to Gibbs. Only his fingers could ever tap that lightly and evenly and still be audible. "Tony?" his soft voice called, sending a shiver through Tony's body.

"Yeah?" he mumbled softly.

"Can I come in?"

Tony wondered idly what would happen if Tony told him no. "Sure," he said quietly. He laid his forearm across the open toilet bowl and laid his head tiredly down on it. Gibbs opened the door enough to slide inside and shut the door behind him. Tony heard the sounds of Gibbs opening the cabinet and heard him turn on the water. A moment later a damp washcloth appeared in front of his face. "Can I wipe your face?" Gibbs asked softly. "You're pale as a ghost." Tony nodded and lifted his head, but it felt laden and filled with lead. Gibbs wiped his face gently and Tony shivered at the coolness of the water.

"Are you alright?" Gibbs asked softly, sitting on the edge of the tub.

Tony shut his eyes and shuddered. Then he shrugged. "I'm not sure," he said evasively.

Gibbs ran his hand firmly over Tony's shoulder in a familiar caress. "Run it down for me," the older man said. "Tell me what happened?"

"Nothing happened," Tony snapped. "She…I made her stop…nothing happened," Tony repeated, his voice much softer and less sure sounding.

Gibbs' gut screamed at Tony's reaction. Something was absolutely very much wrong with this situation. "Did…did anything ever happen before?"

Tony shrugged and didn't answer.

"Tony…" Gibbs said gently, reluctant to start what he knew would be an argument, but unable to leave this alone. It was too important.

Tony sniffled hard and ran the back of his hand over his nose. "I don't remember," he said in a broken voice. "I…I was little…" his hand raised to the back of his head and he began tugging on his hair slightly.

Gibbs stilled Tony's hand and held it carefully, not forcing him to move or forcing him to hold the embrace. Finally Tony looked up at him. "I'm so fucked up," he whispered. Tears filled his eyes and he brushed them angrily away.

"Talk to me Tony," Gibbs pleaded, sliding down to sit as close to Tony as he could in the tight spaced bathroom. "I want to help you."

"I'd tell you if I knew, Tony whispered, shaking his head. "I don't know what it is…it's something…it's just like…right on the tip of my memory…Mommy's Little Sailor," he said almost to himself.

Gibbs shook his arm slightly. "Hey?" Tony looked at him after a long moment. "You ok?"

Tony opened his mouth as though to speak, but no words came out. "I think…I…" Tony closed his eyes. "I'm gonna be sick," he gagged suddenly, raising back up onto his knees and leaning over the toilet again. "Oh God," he coughed. He took a shaky, tentative breath after a minute, and raised a shaking hand to his forehead.

"Want me to call someone?" Gibbs asked. He didn't know what to do to help. Obviously something needed to be done, but he couldn't figure out what. Tony shrugged. He didn't know what to do. Gibbs took a deep breath, thinking back over all of the events of the DiNozzo's visit…of everything that happened while they were here and everything that happened after they left. The pieces were falling into place, but oh shit Gibbs didn't know how to handle this…if it was anyone else, he'd have it under control…but this…this was Tony…and after everything…he steeled himself for what was to come.

"You panicked when your step-mother hugged you."

Tony raised a confused gaze at him. "Step mom?" he asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Your father told me that your mom is actually your step mother. They were married when you were five."

Tony blinked several times, trying desperately to remember. "She told me to call her Mommy," he finally spoke in a small voice. "I didn't know what else I would have called her. She was the only mom I remember," he said sadly. "And dad…dad was great…but he was gone so much…and when he was gone…mom would…she'd get sad…and then she'd drink…and then she'd tell me how lonely she was. She always let me sleep in her bed with her when my dad was gone."

Gibbs let out a long breath. He rubbed Tony's back soothingly and squeezed his shoulder before pulling him into an embrace. "How old were you?" he asked softly. He rested his chin on top of Tony's head.

Tony clung tightly to him. "I don't know," he whispered. "It was always that way…for as long as I can remember."

Gibbs ran his hand over the back of Tony's head, holding him closely. Tony didn't seem afraid with him. A thought struck him then. "Is this why you refused to ever discuss your childhood or your parents with Cheryl?"

Tony nodded. "I never could name it," he said. "I just…I always knew there was something there…something happened that I've worked hard to forget. But it's…" he was quiet for a long moment before he spoke again. "Gibbs…Jethro…your mom…your mom didn't…she didn't dress you up when you were a kid, did she?" There was some reluctance in his tone, some fear.

"What do you mean?" Gibbs asked cautiously. This was not good. NOT. GOOD.

"I mean like…in her favorite outfit…her favorite costumes?"

"She made me get dressed up for church every week and helped me fix my belt and my tie until I was old enough to do it myself," Gibbs said. "You mean like that?"

Tony shook his head slightly, still snuggly inserted in the warmth of Gibbs' embrace. "No," he said softly. "I mean like…dress you up…like to play?"

Gibbs' eyes widened and he felt sick. "No Tony," he said softly, sympathy in his tone, even though he tried to hide it. "No we never played like that."

Tony was quiet for a long time. "I felt like maybe she was lying to me," he said eventually. "I didn't think all of the other kids did it too…we never talked about it…no one ever mentioned it…if everyone was doing it…if it was…" he shuddered, "if it was normal…wouldn't someone have mentioned it?"

"Yes," Gibbs said. "Normal stuff gets talked about—especially when you're kids. You talk about things like eating your vegetables and taking baths and brushing teeth and stuff like that."

"Seeeee," Tony said softly, "and no one ever mentioned playing dress up with Mommy. And she…" he shuddered again.

"She what, Tony? What'd she do? Talk it out."

"She told me that everyone did it," Tony said sadly. "But she told me that it was a special time between mommies and little boys…She told me never to tell anyone, not even Daddy." Tony looked upa t Gibbs then, confusion on his face dawning into a sick realization. "Oh God," he said, his voice cracking.

"C'mon," Gibbs said. He tugged Tony to his feet. "Let's get you out of here. C'mon you look like you could use some air."

Tony stopped in the doorway. "Did she leave? Are they gone?"

Gibbs nodded. "Your dad wants you to call him," he said quietly.

Tony closed his eyes and took a moment, trying to get himself together. When he opened his eyes and looked at Gibbs, the expressive green eyes were troubled and full of fear and self-loathing. "Why did I remember today? Why now? All of a sudden?"

"I don't know Tony," Gibbs said.

"It was like…the minute she touched me…it felt wrong…and she…Jesus she grabbed my ass right…right there," he indicated the living room just steps away. "She…she judged me for being gay…God…Gibbs…did she make me this way?"

"No," Gibbs said gently, putting his hands on Tony's shoulders. "No she didn't make you gay. You were born that way babe. You didn't make the choice, and she didn't turn you gay. I promise. OK?"

Tony nodded slowly. "Why would someone do that to their kid? I was her son! HER SON!" Anger was replacing sadness and regret.

"I don't know Tony," Gibbs said softly.

Tony paced around, growing angrier with each step. "Don't I have enough shit to deal with?" he grumped. "Isn't my plate already full? Could I not just leave this buried and not have to think about it? Why the hell did they come to town? What could they possibly…have hoped…" Tony raised a hand to his chest. "Oh God," he puffed out. He gasped hard. "Shi…it…" he gasped again, and his eyes filled with fear. "Gih—" he gasped again.

Gibbs raced to him and caught him as he stumbled. "Ok, ok easy," he tried to keep his voice calm, but he was scared shitless. Was Tony having a heart attack? Had his mother given him something while she was in the bathroom with him? Gibbs eased him down on the couch and pulled out his phone with shaking hands. He quickly dialed 911 and in seconds had an ambulance en route to Tony's apartment.

Tony was still gasping for air. He seemed confused and scared and Gibbs smiled reassuringly down at him. "Gonna be ok," he said, wishing he could promise. "I'm right here," he brushed his fingers through Tony's hair. Why, oh why, couldn't Tony have a break? "Ambulance is coming. You just rest. Focus on breathing and do not go to sleep. You hear me?"

Fingers clutched tightly at Gibbs' hand and Tony nodded. Tears were streaming down his face and he clutched wildly at his chest. It wasn't long before the EMTs arrived and Gibbs told them about Tony's parents coming to visit.

"Did your mother give you anything?" one of the EMTs asked Tony. Tony blinked several times and stared at them. Finally he shook his head.

His eyes rolled back a bit and Gibbs shook him. "Stay with me," he barked.

"W-with…with you…Jethro," Tony slurred, eyes fluttering again.

The EMT strapped an oxygen mask over Tony's face and he and the other EMT lifted him onto the gurney. Tony's eyes widened slightly and he slung a hand out looking for Gibbs, despite the straps holding him down.

"I'm right here," Gibbs gave Tony's hand a squeeze. "I'm following you to the hospital."

"N-nooo," Tony moaned. "G-go wit'me…please…please go…wi' me…"

Gibbs rode with Tony to the hospital. He was quickly exiled to the waiting room until he explained that Tony was under federal protection and was not to be left unattended. He was then given permission to stand outside Tony's room until the doctors were finished examining him. Gibbs stood at the cubicle window, hands in fists, wondering what the hell was going on. He could see leads and wires and monitors set up, but was getting no information. Finally a nurse poked her head out. "You can come in now," she said softly. "But don't excite him while he's resting."

"Wait," Gibbs said, his nerves getting the best of him. "Is he…did he have a heart attack?"

"Oh heavens no," the nurse said reassuringly. "I can't believe no one told you or I would have let you know. No dear, he just had a really severe panic attack. He's going to be just fine. We've given him some medication to calm him down, and he's sleeping now. He'll be released as soon as we get his blood pressure stabilized."

Relief washed over Gibbs like a tidal wave. "Thank God," he breathed.

"I am very sorry no one explained what was happening to you. You're the agent who rode in with him, aren't you?"

"Yes," Gibbs breathed.

"Come on inside," the nurse said, ushering him into the cubicle. "I'm sure he'll feel better with you close by."

Gibbs moved quickly to Tony's side, taking in the IV with the medication pumping into him, the oxygen still strapped over his face, the heart monitor leads and blood pressure cuff that was attached to his lover…and he wondered how they'd gotten here. It occurred to him that he should call and let someone know…but he didn't know who, and at that moment he wasn't leaving Tony's side to make the call. Perhaps he'd send Ducky a text message in a few minutes. Or call Cheryl. Or he'd wait until they got home and then call.

The nurse poked her head back in a couple of minutes later and smiled. "His readings are balancing out. You must be good for him," she said with a sweet smile.

"I try," Gibbs said, ruffling Tony's hair lightly. "Attaboy Tony," he said softly.

Tony stirred lightly under his touch and slowly blinked his eyes open. Gibbs smiled down at him. "Hey," he said softly. He looked up and saw that the nurse had gone away again and pressed a kiss to Tony's forehead. "How you feeling?"

"Mmmm like shit," Tony breathed. "They g…gimme something'?"

"Yeah," Gibbs said. "Not sure what it was, but they had to get you calmed down."

"'m calllllmm," Tony said with a lazy smile.

"I see that," Gibbs said with a light chuckle. He kissed Tony's forehead again. "Scared the shit outta me," he said, lips still pressed against Tony's head.

The quiet, relaxing moment quickly passed when the cubicle suddenly burst open and two agents scrambled into the corridor, guns drawn, anxiety on their faces. Tony blinked in confusion, wondering who the men were and why there were guns, and he gasped softly. Gibbs glared at them before turning back to Tony, who was starting to panic slightly. "It's just the agents," he said. "Calm down babe."

Tony took a deep breath and yawned before his eyes slid shut again, trusting Gibbs to keep him safe.

"What are you two boneheads doing?" Gibbs hissed.

"We heard the ambulance at the apartment. And then we heard that there was a federal agent in distress and realized the ambulance was for DiNozzo…we spent the last two hours trying to figure out which hospital y'all went to," one of the agents told Gibbs.

Gibbs rubbed his forehead. "It's alright. Tony had a panic attack. He wasn't attacked. It's my fault I told you to go to the deli and not stay with us. From now on though, we'll both follow protocol," he told the two agents, who both nodded. "So hopefully we can keep something like this from happening again."

Gibbs worked it out with the nurse so that he could stay in the room with Tony, and the two other agents could stand outside. The nurse spoke with the doctor who agreed that as long as Tony got to rest he didn't see the problem with them staying.

A few hours later, well after dark, Gibbs led a groggy Tony up the front steps of the house. The agents had cleared it, and he locked the door securely behind them. He got Tony into bed and let out a long breath, watching as Tony almost instantly dropped off to sleep. Gibbs glanced at the clock. It was only about seven-thirty in the evening, but he was weary and tired. He stretched out on the bed next to Tony and a moment later sat back up with the realization that he hadn't called Cheryl or Ducky. Knowing that they'd both want to know what happened, and knowing that Cheryl would likely set up an appointment to talk with Tony about what happened with his mother, Gibbs hesitated, unsure of what to do. Ordinarily he'd just make a snap decision, but with everything that Tony had been through—and it seemed that list of things was growing more with each passing hour—he was hesitant to take that control away from Tony now.

Taking a chance, Gibbs shook Tony's shoulder. "Tony? Babe? Know you're tired, but open your eyes for a minute."

Tony stirred and finally blinked owlishly up at him. Whatever they'd given him was still working, and he smiled blissfully. "Heeyyyy Jet," he breathed. "Sleepy," he rolled over towards Gibbs and snuggled up a bit.

"Tony," Gibbs shook his shoulder. "I need to ask you something. You remember your panic attack today?"

"Mmmm," Tony hummed and nodded slightly.

"We need to tell Cheryl and Ducky about it," Gibbs said. "You want me to call them? Or do you wanna call them?"

Tony stilled. A moment later he rolled to his back and blinked hard several times trying to fight the drugs. "What'd…give me?"

"They gave you something to help you calm down at the ER. Do you remember?"

Tony blinked again and Gibbs thought maybe he'd dozed off because his eyes were closed so long. "I remember," he forced out finally. "Why…do we need…tell anybody?"

"I thought you were having a heart attack!" Gibbs breathed. "You scared the shit outta me. I need to tell someone even if you don't. Do you wanna do it together or do you want me to do it? Or do you want to?"

Tony yawned. "You do it," he mumbled, his eyes sliding shut. "Tell Cheryl…Ducky…"

"Cheryl is probably going to want to talk to you about your childhood if we tell her. Are you ok with that?"

Tony blinked again. "I need to," he whispered. "Need to get help for it."

Gibbs kissed his forehead. "Ok. I'll make the calls. You just rest. I'm right here ok?"

Tony scooted over and smushed his face against Jethro's hip. "Kay," he said just before he drifted off to sleep again.

Gibbs pulled out his cell phone and stared at it for a long moment. Finally he dialed Ducky's number. The Scot answered the phone promptly, inquiring about Tony's condition. Gibbs stopped for a moment, wondering how Ducky knew, then he realized that Ducky was asking about Tony's injuries from the day before—he didn't know anything about what had happened today.

"I thought he was dying Duck," Gibbs said softly into the phone. "He was grabbing at his chest…couldn't breathe…I thought he was done."

Gibbs listened as Ducky validated his fears and encouraged him to be honest with how he was feeling. "Have you called Cheryl, Jethro? This is a big deal…and for Anthony to have reacted in such a strong fashion, I imagine she is going to want to speak with him about this."

"He hasn't wanted to talk about his family since the beginning," Gibbs said. "But he told me to tell her. Told me he needs help."

"Jethro has he said what happened between him and his step-mother?"

"Bits and pieces…he was talking a bit before…and then all of a sudden…Jesus Duck I thought he was dying. Scared me," he admitted softly.

"I understand that dear boy. I'm sure anyone in your situation would have been frightened."

"It made me think…made me remember when…when they died," Jethro said. "I couldn't fix things then…I can't magically fix things now…"

"No, but you can do for Tony something that you weren't in a position to do for your dear girls," Ducky said gently.

"What's that?"

"You can be with Tony now. Just be with him. You don't have to have all the answers—and that wouldn't help him if you did. Anthony needs to discover his own path and his own truths, and he will do it in his time. What he needs from you most if your love and support—which I know you have loads to share."

The two chatted for a while longer, before Gibbs finally ended the call so he could phone Cheryl. Tony hadn't stirred while Gibbs was on the phone. Gibbs took a sip of coffee and stared at the phone for a long moment before he flipped it open. He quickly dialed Cheryl's number and felt the tension in his gut relax ever so slightly when she answered quickly.

"Hi Gibbs," she said.

"Hey," he said quietly.

"What's wrong?" Cheryl immediately picked up on the odd tone in Gibbs' voice.

"Something…uh…happened today. After we left you," Gibbs said. Even with permission from Tony, he still felt like he was somehow betraying him by talking about it.

"I'm assuming you wanna talk about it since you called me," Cheryl pressed gently.

"I um…well…Tony and I went back to his apartment this afternoon. And while we were there his parents showed up…well. His father and step-mother. Anyway. I noticed right off the bat that something was up with the relationship with Tony's step-mother because she just seemed…too affectionate with him…and he excused himself and she followed him. I stayed in the living room and had a conversation with his father and all of the sudden she comes back into the room, gets Tony's father and says they have to leave. She says she doesn't think Tony wants to see either of them and his father says to have him call later on. So I go find Tony and he's in the bathroom gagging and heaving and pale as a ghost and shaking like a leaf. And he's mumbling about how wrong things were and how awkward and terrible it is and how screwed up that relationship has always been…he wasn't making a lot of sense. So we got him cleaned up and he started pacing and he…he had a panic attack…I thought…oh God Cheryl I thought he was dying and he kept grabbing at his chest and saying it hurt and saying he couldn't breathe and he was gasping and heaving and sweating and…we went to the hospital. They ran some tests and realized it wasn't a heart attack like I thought…they gave him something to calm him down and sent him home. He's sleeping now. He gave me permission to call you."

"My goodness. You two just can't catch a break," she commented.

"And we had such a good day," Gibbs commented, and if Cheryl didn't know better she'd have sworn that he was pouting.

"Gibbs did I understand correctly what you implied about Tony and his step-mother?"

"Yes. He hasn't given me details much, but he did say I could tell you. He said he needs to talk about it—doesn't want to but needs to—and that he needs help."

Tony rolled to his back and sucked in a slow, deep breath. Gibbs stopped talking for a moment, watching Tony. His forehead creased and his mouth turned down in a deep frown. His hands began moving, looking as though Tony was batting someone away—as though he was trying to keep someone from touching him.

"No," Tony whispered. "No st—" he gasped, the sharp intake of air cutting off his words. "Guh…noooo…" he made several choking noises and shook his head desperately.

"Call ya back Cheryl," Gibbs said, cutting her off mid-sentence. He snapped the phone shut before she could reply. "Tony," he called. "Tony wake up," he touched Tony's shoulder lightly.

Tony let out a low groan and his brow creased more. He shook his head again, the movements stiff and jerky, but with an urgent hint to them that Gibbs found quite disturbing. "Won't tell," Tony whispered. "Please…please stopppp…won't tell…swear I…I won't…stoppp…sto—NO! NO STOP! PLEASE! PLEASE STOP!"

"Tony wake up!" Gibbs' voice was much more firm and Tony's eyes shot open. He gasped loudly and lifted a hand to his head. Gibbs noticed that Tony's hand was shaking and moved slowly into Tony's line of sight. Tony sucked in a deep breath when he saw Gibbs, but relaxed a second later when he recognized him.

"Jesus," Tony breathed.

Gibbs eyed him carefully. "Ok Tony?" he asked gently. "You were having a nightmare."

Tony yawned. "No shit," he whispered.

"No shit," Gibbs said with a sad smile. "Looked like a bad one. Wanna talk about it?"

Tony's face looked haunted for only a moment as the memory passed over him. "No," he whispered. "No I'm good. Thanks." He refused to meet Gibbs' gaze.

Gibbs' cell phone rang. "Who's that?" Tony asked.

"Cheryl calling me back," Gibbs said, glancing at the caller ID. He flipped the phone open. "Yeah, Gibbs." A moment later he asked Cheryl to hold. "She wants to talk to you," he said.

Tony pushed himself up slowly in bed and yawned. "I don't really wanna talk to anybody tonight, Jethro," he said, his voice just above a whisper. Gibbs could easily see the fear and doubt in Tony's face and nodded. "He's asleep," Gibbs said softly into the phone. "He had a nightmare, but he fell asleep again." His eyes never left Tony's face.

xxx

Across town, Cheryl was sitting on her couch with her phone pressed against her ear. She wasn't deaf. She'd overheard Gibbs whispering to Tony just a moment earlier. Now Gibbs was telling her that he was asleep. She knew Tony'd had a long couple of days, and knew that he needed to talk about some things. She also knew that if he wasn't ready to talk that he wouldn't say a word.

"Gibbs you can tell Tony I am not going to force him to talk," she said gently.

She smiled when she heard Gibbs speak to Tony and tell him what she'd said. A moment later he came back and sounded a bit sheepish. "He um…he's had a long day…they gave him something at the hospital to help him sleep so he's still pretty groggy…"

"Tell him I'd like to talk to him tomorrow."

Gibbs spoke to Tony and then to Cheryl. "He said that'd be ok with him."

"I just checked my book," Cheryl said. "I have a free session time tomorrow afternoon, if you'd like to come into the office."

"Sounds good," Gibbs said. "What time?"

A few moments later, Cheryl hung up the phone and looked at it on the table. She was troubled by the limited amount of information she'd gotten from Gibbs about what Tony experienced. Panic attacks of that caliber—so severe they were confused with a heart attack—were serious, and not to be messed around with. She hoped that Tony would open up to her and talk to her about his childhood. He hadn't wanted to do that, and she hadn't pushed, but now, it seemed, they would have no choice.

If Tony wanted to be cleared to go back to work, he was going to have to do a lot of talking about some very unpleasant things.

TBC…