Chapter 23

Tony was busily berating himself when Tim apologized. He was so surprised that he couldn't even think of how to respond. Tim had no reason to apologize right now. Tony knew he was the one who needed to apologize. He still wasn't sure where the words had even come from.

"Tim, don't..."

"No, Tony," Tim said. "Let me say it."

"No! What I did was..."

"Wrong. Mean. Cruel. Yeah, I know."

Tony raised an eyebrow, and Tim raised his eyebrow in reply.

"What? Am I wrong?" he asked.

"No, but that's my line."

"Well, you weren't saying it," Tim said.

Tony could tell that Tim really was hurt by what he'd said. And rightly so. He'd been telling himself that it wasn't Tim's fault, and he thought he'd believed it. ...since he knew it was true.

...but he could also see that Tim wasn't falling apart because of it. That gave him the courage to try and get back to the topic they needed to be on.

"So... since we both know that I'm the one who needs to apologize, what are you sorry about?"

Tim smiled. "I'm sorry that I didn't go with my gut. You kept saying that you wanted today to be easy, but I felt like there was something else going on and I was debating whether or not to ask you about it, but because you insisted on today being easy, I felt like I'd be doing it wrong if I brought the hard stuff up again. So I was trying to be normal, but that wasn't working, either. I'm sorry that you got to the point where I know what you're feeling."

"Huh?"

Tim took another deep breath and looked out at the trees around the parking lot.

"You're feeling terrible because you said what you said, but at the same time, there's a little part of you that's celebrating because you've wanted to be able to say something for a long time and you feel like you just got to, but you also know that your timing was way off for it and that it was mean. So you feel bad, and you feel good and you feel bad about feeling even a little good. Am I right?"

"Almost."

"What did I get wrong?"

"I don't feel good. Not at all. Tim, I'm really sorry."

"But it's hard being my friend sometimes, Tony. I know. Every time I think I'm over this whole Gibbs thing, I get shown in the worst way that I'm really not. Something has to happen to prove to me that I'm not." Tim looked at him. "This isn't going away. It can't. Tony..." Tim stopped for a moment. "Tony, I have PTSD."

Tony felt his brow furrow. "You've never said that. I mean... I'm not really surprised based on everything that happened, but you've never given it a name."

"I know."

"When did Dr. Bourning give you that diagnosis?"

Tim sighed. "A few years ago."

"And you never said?"

Tim shook his head. "I didn't want it to be true. I've tried to ignore it, but this is long-term. It's lifelong. I go for long periods without any problems, but I still have my triggers and... seeing Gibbs threw me a bit. It's something I do need to work on. But I know this is hard on you sometimes, and I know that you're having trouble right now. I don't know why my looking at a tree made you mad enough to say what you did, but... just like I have to admit that I have PTSD, Tony, you need to admit that you're burned out... not by your job, but by your family."

"I love my family, Tim," Tony said, feeling a little bit of anger at the implication. "I have no intention of losing them or giving them up."

"That's not what I'm saying."

"Then, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you have a hard family, and you got thrown into it all at once. It's a family you love and one you chose to have, but it's still hard and I know it's stressful for you. So admit that it's wearing you down sometimes. Honestly, I think that's what your real issue is. It's not about being who you used to be. It's not about regretting that you're not still a womanizing jerk."

Tony raised an eyebrow at Tim's description. There was a little bite to it.

"Okay, that was a little harsh," Tim said. "But I don't think that's what you want anyway, whether that's what you were or not. You've never said anything about wanting that...but you have said things about how easy it was. It's needing the break you could have if you were who you used to be. Tony, you're worn out. I can see it. You're worn out and worn down, and the harder it gets, the more difficult it is to keep things going. I know how that feels. You needed the escape of a road trip. And my seeing Gibbs turned what should have been fun into something hard again because you couldn't even escape the stress by going on a trip. The trip caused the stress, and I'm really sorry it did."

"Not your fault."

"I know, but I still contributed, even though I would have preferred not to."

Tony couldn't help but laugh at the understatement.

"Tony, I want to help you. You've helped me so many times that I want to be able to return the favor, even though I know I don't have to. I want to. ...I just don't know what to do."

Now, it was Tony's turn to sigh. He leaned forward and stared at the ground.

"I was hoping you would."

"I don't know why. I never do things right when it comes to this kind of stuff."

"Yes, you do. When you talk, Tim... you do it right."

"So am I right, then? I've been talking."

Tony saw that he'd backed himself into a corner, and Tim was trying to get him to say one way or the other.

So he forced himself to really think about what Tim had said. Thinking about the possibility that he was burned out by the family he loved was hard. Burnout didn't happen at home. It happened at work. Home was the escape. He knew that's how it was for Tim.

...but was it really for him? Sometimes, yeah, it definitely was, and it was tempting to stop right there and ignore everything else.

...but mostly, it wasn't an escape from the stress of work. He didn't find work to be very stressful most of the time. Sometimes, it was, but most of the time, he felt like he was in his element at work. Work had always been the easy part of his life because it was all he had to worry about and he knew when he was good at what he did. It was at home that he struggled. He loved Jo. He loved their kids, but sometimes, even now, he wondered what in the world he'd been thinking. And it wasn't really about being free. He just felt like he was only barely staving off complete failure...which would not only hurt him but would hurt the ones he loved.

In that respect, he wasn't really all that different from Tim. The reasons behind the fear were different, but the real stressor was that he'd end up doing something horribly wrong and hurt the ones who mattered the most.

But he didn't want to say it aloud. What could Tim really do about any of that? And after what he'd said to Tim when there was no reason to, Tony didn't want to allow himself to be that way. ...and yet, at the same time, he really wanted it to be about him. Just this once.

"Tony?"

"Yeah."

It wasn't a question. It was an answer.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"There's nothing wrong with that, you know," Tim said.

"Yeah, there is."

"What's wrong?"

"It's my family, Tim. They're supposed to be the good things, not the things that wear me out."

"I don't remember reading that rule anywhere."

Tony laughed a little.

"Tony, your dad did the easy thing. He wasn't there. He coasted through and mostly ignored being a dad, and that's what he did throughout his life from what I can tell. That didn't take effort. It was easy...for him, and you suffered for his decision. What you have now... it's not easy, but it's good. You have to fight for it, and you're fighting to give Daniel and Grace and Ivan a life that is nothing like what you had... nothing like what they had. It's hard, but... man, Tony, you're doing a good thing."

"I don't know what I'm doing," he confessed, leaning forward and staring at the ground. "I'm always fumbling through it all, knowing that I have nothing to fall back on to help me get it right. I don't know how to be a dad, Tim. I'm just pretending I do."

Tony was surprised when Tim squeezed his shoulder and even more surprised when Tim actually laughed. He looked up.

"What?" he asked.

"Tony, do you think I've got it all figured out? I have a great dad, but I don't know what I'm doing half the time, either. The only difference is that I don't assume that everything I do as a dad is wrong, and you do."

"Yeah, right," Tony said. "After all the times I've seen you worrying about what you've done that might have hurt Tommy?"

To his surprise, Tim just smiled. "Yeah, that's why I said only half the time. I know I've made mistakes with Tommy, but not everything I do is a mistake. And not everything you do is a mistake. And it's no shame if you're struggling because you're trying to do something right that you've never seen done right before."

"You're wrong about one thing, Tim."

"What's that?" Tim asked, and for the first time since he'd started talking, Tim looked worried, and Tony realized that, in spite of Tim's eloquence and seeming confidence, he wasn't sure about what he was doing.

Tony smiled and sat up. "I've seen it done right before...because I've seen you."

As he had guessed, Tim reddened a little bit and looked out at the parking lot. It wasn't the most scenic location for one of their serious chats.

"And one more thing, Tim."

"Yeah?"

"I'm really sorry for what I said. It was mean and it was selfish. It didn't even make sense that I felt that way. It doesn't have to be all about me."

"I've made it all about me often enough, you know," Tim said.

"Yeah, but that was when you were falling apart. I'm not. It's just that..."

Tim turned back to him and looked very earnest.

"No, Tony. Maybe you aren't falling apart, but if you don't know how to deal with it, it's still serious. It still matters. You can't just set it aside and pretend it doesn't. You need the break and you'll get it if I can manage to avoid Gibbs for the rest of the trip...but when you go back, you should talk to Jo about it."

Tony shook his head. "No, she won't understand that, and she'll take it wrong, like I'm trying to get out of my family or something."

"No, she won't. Give her a chance. Maybe she can help you if you're so worried that it's stressing you out. Let her try. She loves you and she wants you to be happy, too."

"Maybe she doesn't," Tony said. "Maybe this would be the thing that makes her give up and..."

Tim shook his head firmly. "No. Tony, you know that's not the case. Jo may not know all the details of what you're thinking, but if you ask her for help, she'll do her best. ...and I know you're worried about being what your father was, but you won't ever do that to your kids. Never. And they don't think you will, either."

Tony scoffed. "How could you know that? After all the crap they've dealt with in their lives, there's no reason to think that. You a mind reader now?"

Tim's smile was surprisingly gentle. "No. I don't have to be. Tony, Daniel wants to start calling you Dad."

"What? How... How do you know that? They've never wanted to call Jo and me their parents. Their real parents were too awful for that. When we first adopted them, we told them that they could call us whatever they wanted to, and they preferred using our first names. You're wrong, Tim."

"No, I'm not. The morning that we dropped Tommy and Daniel off at the camp, Daniel asked me if I thought you'd mind if he started calling you Dad. He's afraid to, but he wants to. I can't speak for Grace, although I'd be surprised if she and Daniel hadn't already talked about it, given how close they are. Daniel wants it... and I think he wants it for himself and it's something he wants to give to you, too."

Tony felt his throat tighten ominously. He stood up and faced away from Tim, trying to get control of himself. He'd told himself over and over that it didn't matter what Daniel and Grace chose to call him. They wanted to be in his family and that was the important thing. Calling someone a dad didn't mean anything. He'd told himself that he'd had a father who didn't deserve the name, but he'd still used it. The name didn't matter.

...but it did, and Tony wasn't sure he could stop himself from tearing up about it, from knowing that Daniel wanted it.

He breathed quickly trying to suppress the overwhelming feeling.

He turned back to face Tim who was still sitting, looking a little worried. Tony tried to smile.

"H-He wants me to be his dad?" Tony asked.

Tim smiled. "Yeah, he does."

Tony laughed and then he felt the tears push forward and he wiped them away.

"Daniel wants me to be his dad," he said.

"Yeah, he does," Tim said again.

"Why did you wait so long to tell me?"

"I was looking for the right moment. And then Gibbs showed up and that pushed it out of my mind for a little bit."

Tim stood up and walked over to Tony. He put his hands on Tony's shoulders and shook him a little.

"You are a great father, Tony. No matter how much you worry that you're doing everything wrong, you're doing a great job. You're helping your kids heal from the way they grew up. You may not do everything right, but you're doing the important things right. Daniel loves you, and he wants you to be his father. You've helped him heal enough that he's not afraid of that anymore. Tony, you're an amazing father to three kids who have had to learn right along with you what a father is supposed to be. You're an amazing father to Sam who is growing up with siblings that he loves. You're doing a great job."

Tony wasn't sure he could even get any words out, but he knew he had to. He had to say something that would help repair the wound he'd given Tim with his callousness before. He didn't know what to say.

He took a deep breath.

"Thanks, Tim," he said, very quietly.

"You're welcome," Tim said simply.