Tony headed to his desk just before twelve thirty that day. He had ended up staying longer than his one hour appointment with Rachel, talking about some extra issues he wanted to deal with. He was glad that he had agreed to the therapy sessions, they really helped him. He had gotten Rachel to call Gibbs on his behalf before he left, and she had explained what she wanted Tony to be doing that day. Gibbs happily agreed to let Tony do the computer work, since McGee had left early for an appointment with Delilah, and had promised to let Tony take the lead more often when it came to showing people what he could really do. Gibbs had always known about Tony's abilities anyway, having worked as a team of two before meeting Kate.

"Hi, boss," said Tony.

"How was your chat with Rachel?" Gibbs asked quietly as he came to stand in front of Tony's desk.

"Good. It helped. Thank you for listening to Rachel."

"It's alright. You know that I haven't forgotten about your computer skills, don't you?"

"Of course." Tony shrugged. "Nobody else knows though. And it does sometimes get frustrating when McGee cuts me off to explain the same thing that I am already explaining."

Gibbs nodded his understanding. "Next time he does that, cut him off and keep going with your explanation. Besides, it's easier for me to understand when you explain it since you tend to use English rather then technobabble."

Tony smiled, but chose not to answer as Bishop had joined them. "So, what did I miss this morning?"

"We were working cold cases," said Gibbs as he returned to his desk.

"Not anymore, Gibbs. I just walked past Director Vance on my way in. He gave me this file, said to give it to you. We have a case now." Bishop passed a file over.

"Grab your gear. I'll read it in the car. DiNozzo, you're driving."

Tony caught the keys thrown to him by Gibbs as he was heading to the elevator.

The crime scene was devastating. The house was small, but it felt oddly unloved. The dead corporal was in the living room, laying on the blood-soaked carpet next to an open fireplace, which still contained a few small logs. Ash on the carpet said it had been recently used. A fire poker was laying on the ground next to the body, and blood was very obviously covering the tip of it. Furniture was strewn around the room, pillows covered the floor. There was a blanket that looked like it had been torn to shreds on the floor near the window. An ambulance was outside, the paramedics treating a young boy. The victim's son.

"DiNozzo, you're with me. We need a statement from the child." Gibbs headed over to the ambulance with Tony right behind him.

The agents were already aware that the boy had killed the corporal. It had been self defence. Several police reports had been made already, regarding the corporal's not-too-subtle abuse towards his son. How nothing had been done before, nobody knew. But, now, something was definitely being done, and Gibbs was determined to not let the child get punished.

Gibbs was well aware of what the case was going to do to Tony, but after speaking to Rachel earlier, he had decided to still bring Tony onto the case in an attempt to help Tony work past his pain and fear. If it got to be too much, Gibbs would take Tony off the case straight away, of course, but he wanted Tony to see that he could be alright. Gibbs would be right by his side the whole time anyway.

"Hi, David. I'm Tony."

"Hi, Tony." The child was ten years old, and seemed to just gravitate towards Tony. "I'm sorry I killed my dad."

Tony smiled. He seemed to be coping so far, and he was being professional. "You don't need to apologise, buddy. You defended yourself."

"The police never listened to me. They always came, but they never listened."

Tony sat next to David in the ambulance. He could see Gibbs taking notes, so he put his focus on the child next to him. "How many times did you tell the police?"

David shook his head. "Lots. I don't remember how many."

"That's alright." Tony took a deep breath. "David, can you tell us what happened this morning?"

David nodded. He had eyes only for Tony. "My dad came in from work this morning. I was feeling sick, and my babysitter said I could stay home from school. She called my teacher to tell him for me. But when my dad came in, he got angry. He said that I was wasting his money being enrolled in school because I never went. That's not true, I always go. Sometimes I stay home, if I feel sick, but I always go to school. He pushed me to the fireplace, and I knew he was going to hit me. I tried to run away, but he was strong. He had me in his arms, and he was squashing me. Then he punched me, and I couldn't get away. I grabbed the fire poker to stop him. I didn't mean to hurt him, Tony. Do you believe me?"

"I believe you, David. Who called 911?"

"Me. I told them what happened."

"You did a good job, David." Tony smiled again, then stood up. "I'll be right back."

Tony took off towards the nearest bush, aware that Gibbs was right behind him. He was going to be sick, he was sure of it, so he didn't stop until he reached a bush. Tony started heaving, and then he was vomiting. He could feel a strong hand on his back, providing reassurance and comfort until he finally stopped dry-retching and sat on the grass.

"Sorry, boss," he said as he took the tissue and water Gibbs offered.

"You're alright, Tony. Are you okay?" Gibbs asked gently.

"Yeah." Tony squeezed his eyes shut for a second. "He reminds me of my ten year old self. Except, he had the guts to put an end to his torture."

Gibbs didn't push. He knew Tony was just venting. And, besides, he was happy that Tony wasn't pretending that he was okay with everything. It was going to be a tough case for him to work on, so the more he let out his feelings, the better it would be.

"You know, there was one time, just after my mother died, that I almost killed my father. But I chickened out at the last moment. I couldn't do it."

"Which is perfectly reasonable. You aren't a violent person, Tony. You are forgiving."

"Maybe too forgiving, sometimes." Tony sighed. He leaned into Gibbs' gentle embrace for a second, taking comfort from the older man. Then he got up. "Oh well, back to work."