A/N: The much awaited (kinda) chapter with Tony and Gibbs 'Talk'. Hope it turned out okay! ENJOY!~

Gibbs quickly opened his front door allowing Tony into his home (even though it was never locked in the first place). As Tony cautiously walked into the room, Gibbs took the opportunity to examine and read his body language and behavior.

Tony was walking with his shoulders slumped (who wouldn't when knowing what's awaiting them), and his backpack was slung carelessly over his left shoulder—why did he have his backpack with him?

"What's with the backpack?" Gibbs inquired bursting the SFA out of his own thought process.

"Huh?" Tony had forgotten how strange it would be for him to walk into Gibbs' place with a backpack. Dammit, he should have left it in his car.

Gibbs was curious. He knew that he had to watch out for strange behavior from Tony and this proved strange. It was obvious Tony had changed into something more comfortable so why hadn't he left his backpack at his apartment?

"Oh, uh, I must have forgotten," He knew it was a lame excuse but other choice did he have? If he waited too long Gibbs would get even more suspicious. "I'll just go put it in my car."

Tony attempted to walk out the door, but Gibbs simply stepped in front of it and stuck his hand out in a 'give it to me, now' gesture.

Tony sighed, he didn't see a way out of this. He couldn't disobey and order, verbal or non-verbal. He was always loyal to Gibbs. He obediently, albeit reluctantly, handed Gibbs his backpack.

The older man kept his eyes trained on Tony's the entire time – not quite in a glare, but with a look that showed his suspicion.

It was only when the backpack was tentatively placed in his outstretched hand that he allowed his eyes to fall to said backpack.

He slowly unzipped his contents, praying to god there weren't drugs in there. What he saw made him sigh disapprovingly but not enough so to annoy Tony anymore than he already was. The bottle of vodka was gingerly lifted from out of the bag and held in by the tips of his fingers as he raised his glance back to Tony's eyes and raised both eyebrows.

Tony squirmed uncomfortably. He figured that Gibbs would find out eventually, he just hoped it wouldn't have been this soon. Knowing he was found out already, he figured he might as well attempt to explain why he brought it, although he suspected Gibbs already knew.

"Gibbs, I'm not addicted. It just…" Tony paused searching. "…helps. I know it can be addicting, hell I know that better than most, but I'm just using it as something to keep me grounded." The last few words came out as whisper as he averted his eyes from Gibbs, face beginning to flush with embarrassment.

Gibbs knew that Tony was going to be hard to get through to, and that helping him with his 'not addiction' to alcohol would be difficult, but he was determined to try. Hell, he had a similar addiction to alcohol after Shannon and Kelly—

He didn't want to go there. This night was about Tony – not him. Or them.

Gibbs took a deep breath to calm himself before gently placing a hand on Tony's shoulder, causing the younger man to look back at Gibbs questioningly. Gibbs just turned Tony around – gently – before beginning to lead him down the stairs into the basement. As they walked down the steps, Gibbs kept a hand on the small of Tony's back in a silent gesture telling Tony that he's here for him.

For his part, Tony just allowed himself to be guided to the basement. The hand remaining on his back gave him a small confidence about the evening that he hadn't had before. Gibbs was here. He was safe now. We he started walking down the steps, he couldn't suppress the wince as the motion jarred his earlier injuries.

The wince did not go unnoticed by Gibbs. Hadn't Tony taken his pain medication?

"Did you take your pain medication?"

Tony should have known that even a slight wince would not go unnoticed by the great Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

"They don't mix too well with alcohol. Trust me, I have a great amount of experience in both areas as well as combined – and it is not pretty." Tony tried to joke it off in an attempt to end the discussion, and luckily Gibbs was feeling generous so he accepted the answer…for now.

The pair reached the basement and Gibbs took a seat on one of the stools near his boat and motioned for Tony to take one next to it. When they were both seated, Gibbs began.

"Tony…" How does one go about a conversation like this? "I guess you can start by telling me about your flashback earlier today."

Tony knew that Gibbs would want answers so he put his mask in place and tried to explain it in an objective way. It's just another case.

Gibbs could tell the second Tony's mask went on. His eyes hardened, replacing the gentle yet vulnerable they were just in, and his mouth changed from an almost pout to a neutral, investigative form.

"Well…I guess when Hyland attacked me – which was my plan by the way, I mean, we had to get the guy for something – anyway, I guess it reminded me of," Tony swallowed his next words sounding forced. "my father. I flashed back to the first time he…you know…" Tony cleared his throat loudly. "It was after my mother died…well, I was the one who found her. She was laying in a small puddle of her blood coming from her head. She had been drinking, as always, but being eight I knew she was either dead or dying.

"So, I went to my father. He was in a business dinner, as usual, but I interrupted anyway. I knew it was a bad idea…he was always telling me there would be 'severe repercussions' if I interrupted one, but I was eight! I didn't know what the hell 'repercussions' meant yet! I'd just assumed it meant something bad and didn't bother him.

"That day, though, I could sense the urgency of the situation and I went in and told him. All he did was tell a servant to call for an ambulance and told me to go back to my room to wait to be," Tony visibly shuddered. "disciplined. And, the selfish bastard, just continued with the fucking dinner as if nothing happened! The guy didn't give a fuck that his wife was dying or that I was now scarred for life! All he cared about was who he could con more money out of!"

Tony could feel his hands shaking so he hastily opened his backpack (which had thrown on the floor next to him when he sat down) and took out the vodka. He didn't bother grabbing a glass, he just opened it and took a large swig. He motioned to Gibbs if he wanted some, but Gibbs just nodded his head at the bottle of bourbon sitting on the table beside him.

Gibbs knew that Tony needed the alcohol right now. He knew that speaking of traumatic events could be even more scarring at first than helpful.

Gibbs just patiently waited for Tony to gather himself before continuing.

Tony took a deep breath to ready himself.

"When my father finally came to my room he just burst in and began calling me useless. He said my mother died because of me." Tony couldn't help the strangled noise that came out of his throat as he attempted to hold back the tears threatening to overflow. "That is not how you tell an eight year old that their mother just died!"

"He then just knocked me over the head with his whiskey bottle and kept beating me until he got bored. He then just left me – half-unconscious, concussed, bleeding, bruised, and with a few broken bones."

Gibbs could tell that Tony was trying desperately to keep it together in fear of being thought of as weak. Gibbs just repeated his actions from earlier. He placed a hand on the back of Tony's neck and gently pulled Tony's head to his chest.

To his surprise, and relief, Tony didn't attempt to get out of his hold or resist. He just let himself be lowered into his boss' chest.

"It's okay to cry, Tony. It doesn't make you weak." Gibbs whispered to Tony.

It was as if a dam had burst. The next thing he knew, Tony's arms were around Gibbs' waist and Gibbs' around Tony's shoulders. Then Tony was crying. His sobs were heart-breaking. They were over 25 years of emotion finally being allowed to be released. It pained Gibbs to hear Tony – his son – cry, but he knew that Tony needed it. He needed the release.

He had spent too many years drowning his emotions in alcohol that he never gave himself time to release any emotion of the grieving process. After a few minutes, Gibbs heard something that made his heart ache even more for the man he considered a son.

"Why?" Tony choked out as his sobs gradually began to subside.

Gibbs knew exactly what to say that would make both of them feel better and lighten the mood a bit.

"You said it earlier: he's a selfish bastard."

To Gibbs relief, Tony let out a small chuckle. Gibbs knew then that Tony would be okay. He always believed he would – but now he knew. Tony was going to allow himself to heal and Gibbs silently promised him that he would be there with him, every step of the way.

After a few more minutes of comfortably silence between the two as Tony gathered himself once again, Gibbs guided Tony back into a more natural sitting position. When Tony spoke, Gibbs could tell that letting his emotions out had taken a lot out of him.

"Mind if I crash here tonight?" Tony looked up, hopeful.

Gibbs smiled gently. "Sure."

Tony slowly picked his backpack off the ground and his bottle of vodka off the table. He then walked up the two flights of stairs and into the guest bedroom. He quickly placed the vodka on the nightstand and slipped into the bed. He knew that if he had more nightmares that night, that he'd want the alcohol to help lull him back to sleep.

He knew that tonight was stressful and kind of embarrassing, but he couldn't help the small part of him that seemed more relaxed after finally opening up to someone about part of his past. Even though he only told Gibbs about one of the times, it seemed to be enough for now. He felt relaxed as he gradually fell asleep.

A/N: How was that? I FINALLY wrote about their talk and I am actually pleased with how it turned out. How about you guys? Do you think this was a) okay; b) horrible; c)OTHER.

Reviews are more valuable than GOLD!