Gibbs saw him walking, slowly, face very pale.
"Right here," he told the driver, and hopped out of the car. "Just go back to the house," Gibbs told him, before shutting the door.
Tony was just up the street.
It was a working class neighborhood. This particular street had a wide sidewalk and staggered row houses with garages underneath and small front yards.
People were out, here and there, enjoying the summer twilight.
Gibbs knew it was bad from what McGee told him. He had been very surprised at what Tony did with the urn, and pointed out to McGee he should not bring that up in front of Tony's Aunt. Luckily, Aunt Theresa was busy with the other guests so she only asked where Tony was once or twice before Gibbs left to look for him.
He wondered what could have been in Senior's letter, to elicit such a response from his friend.
As he caught up to Tony, falling in stride next to him, he was even more disturbed that he didn't seem to notice.
"Hey, " he called softly, not wanting to startle him.
But Tony jumped a little anyway, and then came to a stop. His eyes were slightly red-rimmed, as he looked at Gibbs, expression empty.
"Hi Boss," he barely breathed out.
Gibbs waited for just a moment, his blue eyes scanning the green ones for telling signs that might give him a clue...
"I heard you...kicked your Dad out of the car on the way here," he said calmly.
Tony immediately looked away.
"You okay?" Gibbs pressed.
Tony looked at the sidewalk, and then back to Gibbs.
"M'fine."
"Uh-huh," Gibbs said, "then what's with the toss at the bridge?" He shifted a bit on his feet. "McGee said you were going to shoot him?" he smiled slightly at that.
"I..." Tony seemed to be searching for words. "The service was a bit much for me...and..."
"And you don't wanna' talk about it."
After another hesitation, "No." His eyes suddenly went from vacant, to imploring.
Gibbs softened his glance. He knew that whatever it was, Tony wasn't going to tell him at the moment.
"Let's get back to the house, since your Aunt is probably tying Abby to a stake by now."
Tony smiled just a little at that, and blew out a shaky breath as they continued walking. He felt too coiled up inside to tell Gibbs about the letter. He needed time to work it out for himself. He couldn't help but feel it was a sick joke, and that Senior was just screwing with him one last time…
Regardless, he felt some small amount of comfort as the older man gave him a squeeze on the shoulder as they made their way back to Aunt Theresa's.
When they got there, there were some of Senior's business associated milling about.
Aunt Theresa was doting on McGee, feeding him copious amounts of food, telling him he was too skinny, as Abby looked on from the corner of the 1970's style living room in disgust.
Apparently, Aunt Theresa had ignored her completely.
Abby made a fine contrast in her mostly black garb on the sofa. It had been amazing to them all, to see white crushed velour couches and chairs, with carved mahogany accents, covered in plastic. It was probably why the furniture had lasted so long.
As Tony and Gibbs drifted into the room, Tony smiled a little, glancing first at Abby, and then looking at the two paintings over the couch she was pouting from. They were portraits, of a Spanish man and Spanish lady. Both of them had eyes that followed you all over. When Tony had come for a visit with Senior (which was rare), the eyes of the paintings would follow and mock him, haunting him for several hours past the visit.
Before his Aunt noticed him, he quickly dove into the dining room, where she had an elaborate spread of food out for all the guests. But he bypassed that for the cart along the window of the mustard gold room, and went straight for the scotch.
Gibbs had gone over to Abby, after seeing her dismay, and sat next to her.
She leaned over and asked in a low voice, "Is Tony okay?"
Gibbs glanced around for him as he answered, seeing Tony as he threw back a full highball shot in the other room. "No."
"What happened? McGee all but dragged me outside to tell me about him pitching the urn. I mean...I know he's angry. It makes perfect sense he's upset, I'd like, probably smash it too…but, what did he see in that letter that would have set him off? Did he tell you Gibbs? Because I wanna' know. Do you think...it could be about what happened...with his teacher..." She paused, searching Gibbs' eyes to see if he knew something. "It's Tony...I need to know what's going on so I can help."
"He didn't say," Gibbs said curtly, seeing Tony had now knocked back his third shot during Abby's worried ramblings. He gave her a quick squeeze, and whispered in her ear, "I know you'll help him anyway Abs." Then he asked in a more normal voice, "Did you eat?" He was hoping to get her off track just a bit because he didn't want her to notice or worry about the mission he saw Tony was on now, to dull down the pain with some serious alcohol.
"No. I've been watching Aunt Theresa practically go Mrs. Robinson on McGee..." her tone was sour.
They both watched as McGee smiled at Aunt Theresa with genuine pleasure, as she brought him a cup of coffee and several cannolis.
Gibbs chuckled. "Well, I think you should go help yourself, Abby."
That seemed to make her smile. "Maybe I'll...just touch all the food, she'll think I hexed it. I am kind of hungry though. Being a witch takes a lot of energy," and got up with him to go into the dining room.
As Abby started perusing the many platters on the table, Gibbs sidled up to Tony, who had another drink in his hand, but was staring out the window.
"There are better places to do that, DiNozzo," Gibbs said in a low growl.
Tony smiled before he even turned. He looked at Gibbs, amused.
"You're one to talk, Boss. Bourbon, basement, boat...tools...No one ever nags you about putting an eye out." His voice dripped with subtle irritation, and the words came out a little slowly, though not quite slurred yet. He was getting there.
Just to show Gibbs he was going to do what he wanted, he threw back what was in the glass.
Gibbs took in the quiet defiance, and said nothing, deciding he needed to take another approach.
"Aunt Theresa?" he called, as Tony scowled at him.
She finally broke herself away from McGee's side, and came over to them.
"Ah Antonio! I didn't see you come in before. Did you eat?" Her eyes, so much like his fathers, passed over him with scrutiny. "You didn't. Let me make you a plate," she turned.
"Aunt Theresa," Tony put a hand on her arm, "no. It's okay. I'm fine." He was feeling the effects of the scotch now, and didn't want to stop them with food.
"But-"
"I'm fine," he said, with a little more bite than he meant to express. "Don't worry," he said with sluggish ease.
"Ah...okay...but-" she eyed the glass in his hand, and the scotch on the cart that was 1/3 gone. "You need something in your belly to go with that scotch."
"What, you don't think I can handle it like my dear old Dad?" he asked innocently.
She looked a little confused. "He never-"
"He was a drunk!" Tony said a little loudly. "Amongst other things."
"Antonio," she said, tilting her head in a reprimand. "Please…"
Tony stared at her for a moment. And then he sighed.
"Ohhh, Auntie, if you only knew…you wouldn't have loved him that much…"
"Antonio," she said sadly, "you are angry he's gone." She looked up at Tony and put her hand on his cheek.
"Aunt Theresa," he said, with a menacing chuckle, "I'm angry the sonofabitch didn't die sooner."
His Aunt gasped, and recoiled from him, and quickly put her hand over her mouth.
"Okay," Gibbs said. "I think we need to get going to the airport." He cut Tony off, because he knew the younger man had gone too far. He knew Tony would be feeling regret over this moment, and didn't want it to get any worse.
"What time is the flight?" Aunt Theresa asked, in a shaky voice, letting her pained eyes linger on Tony for a moment before looking at Gibbs. She was hoping the scotch was what made Tony say those things, and the loss of his father.
"Twenty-two thirty hours."
"Ohhh, my goodness! You better go. I don't want you to be late. I'll make a bag with food...maybe Antonio can have some in the car..." she glanced at her nephew, who had stopped listening and went back to looking out the window. "I hope I see again sometime, Antonio. You're the only family I have left."
Tony looked at her with sorrow, but said nothing. He didn't want to make promises he couldn't keep.
Aunt Theresa turned around, and took the plate out of Abby's hands – the one she had just managed to finish assembling, while she eavesdropped on the whole conversation.
"I'll take that," Aunt Theresa said, giving her a dirty look again, "and pack it up for Antonio." As the old woman went into the kitchen, they heard her mutter "Strega..."
Abby looked after her angrily, and then smiled impishly as she quickly took some Italian cookies and put them in her purse.
In the car, Gibbs sat watching Tony, whose head was leaning back while he fell into a drunken sleep.
Gibbs had to keep a hand on him, to keep him steady leaving his Aunt's house. But he didn't say another word to Gibbs, and barely mumbled his goodbye to his Aunt as she squeezed him breathless, and cried on his shantung tie.
Gibbs wondered if the letter had just been some minor thing, even Senior expressing his love for his son, that struck the right nerve. It would be a logical reaction for Tony even to get upset about that, after hearing from everyone what a saint the man was at the service.
None of the day could have been anything but agonizing.
Gibbs felt a bubble of sadness come up inside him, as he thought about everything Tony had to endure growing up in the house on Long Island. How he must have felt being sent away, rejected by his father after refusing to live up to the man's expectations.
He would never have done that to a child. He would never have done that to Kelly. And he sure as Hell would never have allowed anyone to do to her what Robert Anselmo had done to Tony.
He shook his head. He was worried.
Tony had been in therapy with Rachel Cranston for months.
They both had...but Gibbs had stopped, and Tony was still seeing her. He knew Tony was still occasionally losing sleep from the nightmares...
Tommy Anselmo had caused damage to them both, but...what he'd done to Tony... Gibbs couldn't imagine anyone having the strength to come back from that.
But Tony did. And Gibbs admired him for the courage he possessed.
He knew Tony could get through almost anything after that.
So, why then, did he have the feeling a small animal was gnawing at his gut?
Something about the day's events, and Tony's reaction, had him concerned…if not a little disturbed. The way Tony acted towards his Aunt…
He wished that Tony would have opened up a little, so he'd know what it was that was tripping his silent alarm.
Tony flinched in his sleep, and let out a little moan, as he shifted restlessly across from Gibbs..
Gibbs hoped after everything that had happened, Tony wouldn't go back to keeping secrets.
Especially the type that could swallow him up.