Chapter 34

When Tim opened his eyes, it was just starting to get dark. He relaxed in the cozy cocoon of blankets, resting his chin against Tony's shoulder. His thumb rubbed gently against the knuckles on his partner's hand.

"The first time my uncle beat me was the afternoon of my mother's funeral," Tony said. Tim stilled for a moment at the unexpected admission and forced himself to keep his touch smooth and gentle as Tony continued, his voice barely audible.

"I was hiding, needing to get away from the house and all the people. He found me. He'd always resented me. When I was older, I realized he had wanted my mother. Two brothers, both in love with the same woman. It's the plot of a hundred movies, and I've hated every one of them. There's nothing good that can happen in that situation." He paused, and Tim pulled him closer.

"They never told me any of this, but even then I liked investigating. Not everything I heard made sense at the time, but when I got older, I figured it out. My father knocked my mother up, married her before my grandfather Pattington could find his shotgun. My grandfather doted on my mother, his only daughter. When my grandfather DiNozzo died before I was born, Uncle Carmine and my father split the family estate. They both lived there. I don't think my mother liked having Uncle Carmine there - it must have been awkward - but she never said anything. Her father moved here from England when my parents got married and lived with us. Just your average dysfunctional family situation." Tony wrapped his arms around Tim's, pulling the younger man even closer to his back. "Maybe it would have worked if my mother had lived. She was the glue that held us together. We weren't exactly a happy family, not like yours or Gibbs with Shannon and Kelly, but we at least were semi-functional."

Tim wasn't sure what to say, so he just pressed a gentle kiss to Tony's shoulder. It seemed to work, since his partner kept talking.

"My mother was never strong. I learned later that she had a rough pregnancy with me, and giving birth left her with lots of damage." They were so close, Tim could hear Tony swallow. "My uncle and grandfather blamed me. They didn't say anything until after she died, but looking back, it was visible before that. Once she wasn't there to hold them back, it got ugly. Really ugly. If NCIS had investigated, it would have been one of those cases where Gibbs gets wrath-of-god pissed and the dirtbags are wetting their pants just looking at him."

"Like when he slammed Capt. Watson into the wall at the bank after he admitted to having his family kidnapped so he could steal the money," Tim said quietly, trying to ignore the twisting in his gut.

Tony nodded, his hair brushing Tim's face. "Pretty much. Makes me wish I had a Navy dad like you. Instead, I got my father, who takes the easy way out. He just ignored what was going on. Dealing with it would have been hard. He doesn't like hard. He just slides through life." He sighed. "So my uncle beat me, my grandfather used words instead of fists, and my father just looked the other way. You picked a pretty screwed-up guy to get involved with, Probie."

Tim paused before he spoke, praying he could find the right words.

"I picked a decent, honorable man who went through hell as a kid and used that as incentive to skip the easy life and get down in the trenches and try and clean up the muck and filth." He moved back a bit and pulled Tony until the other man turned over to face him. "We've all got something in our past that's not pretty. You had a family that could team up with Eli David to be the villains in a Shakespeare tragedy. Gibbs had a great childhood, found the love of his life, and had it all taken away because Shannon was doing the right thing and testifying against a drug dealer. Ducky was used by a sociopath to kill a man just because he wanted to save people from torture. And yet we all go out there every day and, instead of using our past to do harm, we let it drive us to do good. We can't control life. All we can control is our reaction to it."

"You've been listening to your self-help CDs again, Tim." But Tony's face softened and relaxed as he said it, and his smile was the real one, not his fake grin.

Tim shrugged. "We all choose our own way to deal with our demons. So what if mine's self-help CDs and an ancient typewriter?"

Tony pulled him close. "I guess we both just need keys to create our demon-fighters."

Tim pulled back. "Huh? Did my DiNozzo-to-Geek translator break?"

Tony started laughing, a deep belly laugh that Tim realized he hadn't heard in too long.

"Want to share the joke?" Tim asked when he finally stopped.

"Sorry, Tim," Tony said. "I didn't tell you about Gibbs and his 'prescription' Thursday night."

"Is this like Ducky's two aspirin and a glass of Scotch?"

Tony shook his head. "No. I found Kelly's piano and started playing it. I have a keyboard at home that I play sometimes, and I just felt like it Thursday night. Gibbs came upstairs while I was playing. After, he told me he could see in my body and hear in the music that I was letting stuff out when I played and suggested I play every night. I'm not sure if it was that or talking to him, but I didn't have any nightmares that night. I played again last night while he was downstairs wearing his elf hat and got another restful night's sleep."

Tim smiled. "Works for me. I'd thank him, but in order for him to appreciate it, we'd have to tell him about us, and I'm not sure I appreciate it that much." He paused to think. "Of course, as glad as I am that he's found something to ease your nightmares, maybe I should rephrase that as I'm not sure there's enough appreciation in the world to make me tell Gibbs we're breaking Rule 12."

Tony snorted. "And that, McSensible, just proves that despite dating me and Abby while working for Gibbs, you're still sane. Sneaky, but sane."

"Speaking of sneaky, we'd better get up and get some dinner before you have to go back to Gibbs," Tim said. "I don't care if Gibbs said he wasn't doing a bed check, he's sure to be downstairs sanding away when you get home."

"Good point." The men reluctantly emerged from under the down comforter and pulled on their clothes. Tim's shirt was crumpled in a heap on the floor, so Tony loaned him a T-shirt.

"Ohio State?" Tim said. "If I wear that out, we're just asking to run into somebody we know. Ducky will be over visiting Gerald, or Ziva will be meeting friends for dinner at that Thai place she likes or something."

"Good point." Tony searched through his drawers until he found a basic black T-shirt. "Come on, let's get going. I'm starving."

"You're always starving, Tony," Tim replied. "I can't imagine what you were like as a teenager."