Rating: M
Characters: Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Tony DiNozzo, Tim McGee, Abby Sciuto, Ducky Mallard, Jimmy Palmer, Ziva David, Leon Vance, OMC, OFC
Pairings: Gibbs/Tony
Warnings: Rape/non-con, torture, violence, trauma, angst, slash, swearing, mild Ziva bashing (She behaved horribly towards Tony at the end of season 6. I never liked her after that.)
Spoilers: Parts of the end of season 6 and the beginning of season 7
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just like to play with them.
NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS
Pulling up to a shop tucked away in the corner of a shopping center, Tim stared up at the purple sign with bright pink lettering that read "Sweet Scoops."
"Well, here we are," Tim declared, turning to Tony, who sat staring out the window of the passenger seat; sucking his thumb and rocking his body back and forth as if to comfort himself.
"Tony?" Tim called to his friend, reaching out and giving the (physically) older man's shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Tony's body stilled at the touch, and he turned to face Tim with watery green eyes.
"Wha?" he asked around the thumb in his mouth.
"You're gonna be okay. This is a small place, and shouldn't be too overwhelming for you."
Tony blinked owlishly at Tim, slowly letting the thumb slip from his mouth. "Do you think anyone will notice I'm…a stupid man-baby?"
Tim sighed sadly, taking hold of Tony's hand, which was still slightly moist with saliva. "Tony, you are a sweet, loving person who makes his friends smile. That's what anyone that matters is going to see. I wish you didn't feel so ashamed of who you are that you think you need to hide from people."
"But –"
"Please, Tony. Just try and enjoy yourself today. I promise to keep you safe."
Looking up to meet Tim's gaze, Tony gave a small nod. "Okay", he said with a wavering smile. Eyes communicating an absolute trust in his friend, in spite of his fear and reluctance.
Returning the smile, Tim gave Tony's hand a light squeeze. "I'm proud of you, buddy," he said, opening the driver's side door.
Getting out of the car, Tim then reached into the back seat, grabbing a backpack containing Tony's pull ups – which he now wore when he was Big – and bib.
Closing the door, Tim then walked around to the passenger side, opening Tony's door and reaching a hand out to help him up.
Taking the offered hand, Tony looked up at Tim tentatively.
"Gonna have fun today?" he asked, with a sweet innocence that made Tim wonder just how Big Tony was at that moment.
"Absolutely," Tim promised, guiding Tony as he stood. "Come on," he coaxed, patting Tony on the back. "Lets get some ice cream in your tummy."
As they stepped up onto the sidewalk and approached the entrance, Tim felt Tony's hand reach for him, seeking comfort and reassurance. Interlacing their fingers and giving Tony's hand a loving squeeze, Tim looked over fondly as Tony visibly calmed at the touch. Tim felt honored, and a bit overwhelmed, at the amount of trust the emotionally fractured man put in him.
Entering Sweet Scoops, Tim only a step in front of Tony, the two just stood their for a minute as Tony scanned the place with a look of both fear and awe.
It was, as Tim had said, a small place. Along the right hand wall was a counter, which held a small selection of ice cream flavors on display behind glass. On the wall behind the counter was a menu, listing not only said flavors, but also different types of sundaes and ice cream soda.
There were only five tables in this space; three larger in size and circular, able to seat 5 to 6 people, and two small tables for two. To the back, a small hallway led to one unisex restroom.
Apart from Tim and Tony, the only other customers were a young couple in their 20s, and a mother with her two daughers, who looked to be between the ages of 5 and 8. If Tim and Tony sat at the small table near the restroom, they could probably enjoy their ice cream unnoticed.
"Can I help you?" the young woman behind the counter called out cheerily.
"Yeah. Just give us a minute," Tim nodded politely, leading Tony over to the counter.
"Just call for me when you're ready," the woman – whose name tag read "Jamie" said with a smile, leaving the men to make their selection.
"See anything you like?" Tim asked, rubbing Tony's back as he looked over the selection, eyes sparkling with a child like glee.
Tim blinked back tears, heart overflowing with love at the sight. He wondered if Tony realized he had Tim wrapped around his finger. He would do anything to keep a smile on that sweet face.
"Can I get chocolate chocolate chip ice cream?" Tony asked, looking up at Tim hopefully. "With whip cream and strawberry syrup?"
"You can get anything you want, buddy," Tim replied with a soft laugh. "How many scoops do you want?"
"Hmm…"Tony thought for a minute, finger to his lips as he looked to the ceiling. "Two!" he finally decided. "Is that okay?"
"It sure is," Tim laughed, giving Tony's back a reassuring pat. "Excuse me!" he then called to Jamie, who was restocking napkins. "We're ready to order now."
NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS
Tim looked on proudly as Tony spooned some ice cream into his mouth. It didn't matter that just as much ice cream ended up on Tony's face and bib as in his mouth. Tony was out, learning to be part of the world again. He had taken yet another big step towards reclaiming his life, after the nightmare of his captivity.
"I started playing guitar again," Tony announced, setting down his spoon.
"Really? I'm glad to hear that!" Tim exclaimed, reaching over to give Tony an encouraging pat on the arm.
"Yeah. My fingers hurt when I play now. But if I keep practicing, maybe I'll get shells on them like I had before."
Taking a bite of his butter pecan, Tim gave Tony a puzzled look for a minute before realizing what he was trying to say.
"You mean callouses?"
"Yeah. Callouses." Tony's face reddened, and he looked down, sliding his hands between his knees as if to comfort himself. "I'm so stupid sometimes. I get my words all messed up in my head and say wrong things."
"No. Tony, you're not stupid at all," Tim reassured Tony. "I knew what you meant. Besides, callouses are kind of like protective shells for your fingers. That's a very creative way to think of it, and I think only someone who is really smart could do that."
"Really?" Tony asked, looking up at Tim hopefully.
"Really," Tim nodded with certainty.
Tony smiled, laughing nervously as he wiggled around in his seat a little. "Tim?" he asked, looking up with a wide eyed innocence.
"What is it, buddy?"
"Why is it easier for me to use my hands when I play music, but harder when I do other things?" Tony asked, waving around his spoon clumsily. "They're the same hands."
"Hmm…I'm not sure," Tim replied thoughtfully, stirring his ice cream. "How do you feel when you play music? Is it any different from when you do other things?"
"Uh-huh," Tony answered without hesitation. "I feel…" Tony's voice trailed off, and he fed himself another sloppy spoonful of ice cream, as if to buy himself some time. Then, setting his spoon back in the dish, he finally seemed to have found the right words. "I feel happier, and calm in my brain," he said with a serene smile.
"Well, there might be something to that. Maybe you should bring it up during your next session with Rachel," Tim suggested.
"Yeah. Maybe." Tony set his spoon back in the dish, looking at Tim with genuine affection. "So, what's new in the life of Tim? I want to hear all about it!"
"Okay." Taking one last bite of ice cream, Tim set down his spoon, then wiped off his mouth with a napkin. "Well, we had this case –"
"No." Tony interrupted, holding up a hand. "Not work related. Anything but that."
"Okay…" Tim nodded, licking his lips. He was beginning to understand that Tony's last years at NCIS were difficult, and the last thing he wanted to do was trigger painful memories.
"Well, I've started playing a new online role play game. It's pretty fun!" Tim almost hoped that Tony would start teasing him for this. Even if the old Tony was never coming back, seeing just a flash of who he used to be would be a welcome revelation.
"Oh, that's cool! Tell me about it!" Tony demanded excitedly.
Well, that was unexpected!
"You really want to know?" Tim asked in disbelief. "Isn't this stuff too geeky for you?"
"No. I didn't mean any of that stuff I said before," Tony admitted, almost apologetically. "To tell the truth, I was always a little jealous of you."
"Jealous?" Tim blinked in surprise. "Why?"
"Because you don't hide who you are. You like what you like, and you don't care what other people think about it." Tony sighed sadly, a tear trickling down his cheek. "I wish I was like that. I always hid, and people thought they knew stuff about me. But they didn't know me. Never."
Tim closed his eyes and sighed, guilt washing over him. If this new version of Tony was anything, he was honest.
Yes, Tony used to hide behind masks. And he was pretty convincing. But no one ever took the time to try and see the person behind these masks. They made assumptions about Tony, blinded to the pain beneath the surface. Tim knew he was just as guilty of this as anyone.
Looking across the table at this honest, vulnerable man – a man who could no longer hide – Tim offered him a teary eyed smiled.
"Well, I never want you to feel you have to hide again. You can tell me anything. I'll never laugh at you or judge you for it. You're my best friend, Tony. You can be yourself around me. So from now on, no more hiding. Deal?"
Tony smiled – that big, innocent, forgiving smile that was both endearing and heartbreaking – nodding enthusiastically. "Deal."
NCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS
Glancing over at Tony, head resting against the passenger side window as he softly snored, Tim smiled. It had been fun to get Tony out of the house for awhile and just interact as friends. While it was true that, even at his biggest, Tony was very much a little boy, there were moments when he displayed a self awareness that Tim, as adult as he was, could only hope for. Somehow, through Tony's regression, their friendship had achieved a depth and maturity that had been absent before.
As Tim pulled up into the driveway, Tony whimpered sleepily at the change in motion. It was an endearing sound that made Tim wish they could prolong their afternoon together. Nothing like a man who had been returned to a state of innocence to help one forget the grim truths of adult life.
"We home?" Tony asked, yawning.
"Yep," Tim confirmed, unbuckling his seat belt, then reaching to do the same for Tony. As he did so, Tony grabbed hold of his arm, giving him an adoring smile.
"Thank you, Tim. I had fun today."
"So did I, buddy," Tim said warmly, unbuckling Tony. "Maybe next time I can bring you over to my place and show you that new role play game I've been playing."
"Yeah!" Tony exclaimed, wiggling around excitedly.
"Okay," Tim laughed. "Let's get you inside. I'm sure Jethro missed you."
Getting out of the car, Tim once again grabbed Tony's backpack from the back seat, then went around to open Tony's door. It was then that he noticed Jethro standing on the porch talking to a white haired man in a black suit, which reminded Tim of the designer suits Tony used to sometimes wear.
"You expecting company?" Tim asked, helping Tony out of the car.
"No…" Tony answered, confused, as he and Tim made their way to the house.
Curiously staring at the back of the man's head for a few steps, it wasn't long before his deep voice became audible.
It was a voice that stopped Tony in his tracks. And before Tim knew what was happening, he found Tony clinging to his arm for dear life, whimpering fearfully.
"We gotta go,Tim," Tony whispered, tugging at the sleeve of Tim's shirt. "I don't wanna be here."
But it was too late. The man, aware of their presence, turned to face them, grinning like a Cheshire cat as his eyes gazed upon Tony.
"Junior!" the voice boomed, and it was then that Tim realized that the man in question was Tony's father. No wonder Tony had reacted so strongly!
"It's good to see you, son," Senior said, pulling Tony into a one sided hug. "I've missed y –"
"No!" Tony cried, struggling in his father's embrace. "I d-don'…don't…"
"That's enough", Jethro barked, pulling Senior away from Tony, who quickly sought comfort in Tim's welcoming arms. "I told you to leave."
"But he's my son!" Senior protested. "I have a right to – "
Ignoring Senior, Jethro turned his attention to Tim and Tony. "Get Tony inside, Tim," he ordered.
"Got it," Tim nodded.
As Jethro turned to finish dealing with Senior, Tim could feel the weight of Tony's body against him as he sobbed into Tim's shoulder, shaking like a leaf.
"Think you can walk, Tony?" Tim asked, honestly wondering, as the brief physical contact seemed to have left him paralyzed with fear.
Feeling Tony nod against his shoulder, Tim supported his friend as they entered the house as one.
Leading Tony over to the couch, Tim could feel the other man rapidly slipping into regression. It wouldn't be much longer before his legs could no longer carry him. Thankfully, they reached the couch before that happened.
"You still with me?" Tim asked, helping Tony lie down.
"Uh…uh-h-huh…" Tony sobbed.
"Okay. Just hang in there while I go get your blanket and pacifier."
"No!" Tony whined, grabbing Tim by the wrist when he tried to walk away. "St-ha-hay…."
Tim sighed sadly. He hadn't seen Tony this scared and needy since those first months after his rescue. He'd hope he would never have to see his friend like this again. And yet, with one visit from his father, here Tony was, falling apart all over again.
"Sure thing, buddy," Tim said softly, rearranging Tony's body so that he could take a seat, then resting Tony's head on his lap.
Tim ran his fingers through Tony's hair, and Tony's breathing steadied in response, his body beginning to relax against Tim, though he was still clearly very upset.
Hearing the front door open, Tim looked up to see Jethro enter, taking a few deep breaths to erase any anger and tension from his face. He needed to keep his emotions in check. Otherwise, he might frighten Tony. And Tim knew that was the last thing Jethro wanted to do.
"Hey, sweetheart," Jethro cooed, kneeling down in from of the couch and cupping Tony's cheek. "You're gonna be okay."
"He..gah-gone?" Tony asked, blinking up at Jethro through his tears.
"Yeah." Jethro kissed Tony's forehead. "He's gone."
"I… don' yike…w-when…he touch me."
At those words, Tim could swear he felt his heart drop into his stomach. He looked up at Jethro, the two of them exchanging the same pained expression. Both feeling sickened and enraged at thoughts of what Tony's father might have done to him.
"Tony? What did your father…"
Jethro's voice trailed off, noting Tony's eyes drooping closed. His body became limp and unresponsive in Tim's hold, and both Tim and Jethro knew, Tony was gone.
Tim suspected that Baby Tony was much younger than usual this time. And he got the sinking feeling this regression would be a lot harder for Tony to come out of it.
And when Tony did eventually to come out of this regression, would he be able to open up about whatever had happened to him as a child? Because until he did, Tim was sure the happy, playful boy that Tony had started to become would be forever lost.