The tossing and turning was driving him into a state of madness.
The well worn couch creaked in protest under his weight as he writhed.
He had called Tony at around seven. The agent had dutifully picked up on the third ring.
But…it was like an autopilot Tony. A recorded Tony.
He had used the excuse of checking on a lead to cover the call. Tony had been courteous, professional and obliging.
There had been no warmth in his voice. It was clinically polite. He didn't make a single joke. He didn't offer to come over as he so often did.
Nothing.
He had once again asked him straight out if he was ok.
Tony had responded immediately in the affirmative. Everything was fine…just dandy.
He had then made his polite excuses, and ended the call, citing the date he had mentioned earlier.
Sighing angrily, Gibbs threw the pillow that was inoffensively supporting his head across the room and settled down on the couch once more.
Something was wrong with the kid, but for the life of him he didn't know what it was.
It couldn't have been that he was too hard on him. The spanking he'd dished out had been almost tame compared to some of the sore backsides Tony had earned himself over the years.
It wasn't as if he forced the kid to take the spanking, he never did that, to any of them.
His senior agent had willingly accepted his punishment for his ridiculous stunt hadn't he? So what was the problem? He could hardly think that he could get off scot free for what he had done.
Gibbs turned once again and groaned to himself as he remembered how his eldest had grimaced as he had squeezed his shoulder.
His stomach began to play host to a healthy bout of nausea.
Usually Tony fell into his arms without a second's hesitation after being taken in hand.
Squeezing his eyes shut in frustration, Gibbs was once again lost to his thoughts. After an hour or so, he fell into an uneasy and troubled sleep. The last image that played on his mind before he slipped into a restless rest was his senior agents face twitching as he tried to comfort him.
The next morning came with an almost indecent haste, and Gibbs moaned as the dawns rays pierced their way through his living room window.
He was exhausted.
Hoisting himself up, he forced himself to perform his usual morning routine and soon he was in his trusty car on the way to the Navy Yard.
Striding into the bull pen his heart stopped slightly when he spied Tony's empty desk. Ziva and McGee were already at their work stations, working diligently.
Before he could enquire as to his senior agent's whereabouts, the man himself appeared out of the copying room, laden down with case reports.
Passing by his boss, he gave a courteous smile and a polite "morning Gibbs", before settling himself down at his desk.
The team leader blinked.
Since when was the kid so polite this early in the morning? Since when did he not pass off the boring work of proofing case reports over to McGee? And since when did he call him Gibbs?
The elder of the team didn't know it happened, but organically it had. The girls called him Gibbs, and the boys, Boss. It was an unspoken term of endearment, much like his nicknames for them.
Gibbs coming from Ziva or Abby was completely normal, Gibbs coming from Tony….was not.
Shaking his head slightly, he threw himself behind his own desk resigned to the pile of cold cases that had materialised over time.
As he worked, he kept sneaking furtive glances at Tony.
He was the picture of federal perfection. He worked quickly, efficiently and quietly. He never once threw a rubber bank at Tim, or interrogated Ziva about her love life. He didn't look twice at the beautiful blonde intern that deposited the day's mail on his desk, other than to give her a polite nod.
Gibbs was growing more and more uneasy by the minute as he surveyed the kid.
He looked like Anthony DiNozzo, but he sure as hell didn't like it.
Blinking he forced himself to return to his work.
The hours droned on, and soon lunchtime had descended.
Ziva and Tim wasted no time scampering to their feet to dart out to the three's favourite deli. Gibbs watched surreptitiously as they stopped at Tony's desk, trying valiantly to get him to join them. The team leader watched as Tony politely shook his head and smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes and tell them he needed to get through his pile of cases.
The two exchanged worried glances, and tried once again, only to be turned down.
When the elevator doors pinged, obscuring a clearly perplexed Tim and Ziva from view, Gibbs threw down his own pen. Heaving himself up, he crossed the bullpen to Tony's station, and perched on the side of his desk.
"You wanna grab a bite over at that Italian place you like instead Tony? My treat."
Usually the senior agent would have jumped at the idea, but today, he once again shook his head politely.
"Thanks Gibbs, but I really need to get these reports done today. I'll get something later."
The elder man closed his eyes wearily for a moment.
Deciding against beating around the bush, he leaned in closer to the kid and was chagrined when Tony leant an equal space back.
"Are you angry because I punished you yesterday?"
His voice was quiet, and loaded with concern.
Not even looking up from the report he had refocused on, Tony once again shook his head.
"No Gibbs."
That was it. Nothing else. No elaboration, no eye contact, no…nothing.
Gibbs blinked once again.
"Tony…please" he murmured quietly, completely breaking with his usual brusque demeanour, "please…if I've done something to upset you, could you tell me?"
This time the kid did look up, and the coldness in his brilliant green eyes was almost palpable.
"I'm fine Gibbs. I really have to get on now, if there's nothing else?"
Without waiting for a reply, the sandy brown head was dropped back in the bulky file once more, leaving Gibbs feeling floored.
What the hell was going on?
He studied the kid closely for a second, taking in the tense poise of his body, and the bags under his eyes.
Clearly he wasn't the only one who had sleeping last night.
Sighing a resigned sigh, he nodded sadly and slid of Tony's desk.
"Ok" he murmured quietly, and made his way out of the bullpen in search of coffee…and air.
Tony watched his retreating back with narrowed eyes and felt…nothing.
He felt absolutely nothing.
He had almost forgotten what it was like to feel so empty, to feel like a vessel with no substance.
He knew that it was possible to feel that way, of course he knew. He had grown up that way.
He just never knew…never believed that Gibbs could make him feel that way again.
He glanced back down at the file, and tried to lose himself in it.
When he was a kid, he had always lost himself in comics. Maybe this case file would do the same job.
Gibbs sat slumped outside his favourite caffeine haunt, staring moodily into the distance.
Something was very wrong with his eldest boy, but he didn't know what the hell it was and it was crystal clear that Tony wasn't going to tell him anytime soon.
He sat there for half an hour, not actually touching the coffee in front of him.
A seagull perched on a railing in front of him, took flight hurriedly after a particularly ferocious bout of teeth grinding was sent his way.
His cell beeped, rudely interrupted his pensive reverie.
Growling, he snatched it from his pocket.
They had a case.
Throwing his still full coffee in the nearest trash can, he made his way back to the Navy Yard at an agitated pace.
Ten minutes later, and he rounded into the bull pen where Tony, Tim and Ziva were huddled around the plasma waiting for him.
McGee took charge of the presentation they had just received, and five minutes later the case analysis was in full swing.
Tim read on, but stopped at what would later be determined to be the killer's signature.
The writing of famous movie quotes on his victims' bodies. In their own blood.
McGee's, Ziva's and Gibbs' eyes swivelled to Tony for his anticipated burst of speech.
Three sets of eyes widened when the senior agent merely made note of the signature on the pad in front of him, and looked up at Tim expectantly to continue the presentation.
Tim and Ziva turned back to the plasma in confusion, and the junior agent continued to speak.
What he was saying, Gibbs didn't know. His eyes hadn't left Tony, who was diligently writing as Tim spoke.
He was beginning to feel a little bit sick.
Tony was perfect. His behaviour of the day was that of a faultlessly perfect, polite and professional senior field agent.
And Gibbs detested it.
He wanted Tony back, and he wanted him back right now, movie quotes and all.
He forced himself to jerk back into reality, and dished out orders on following up leads.
When all three of his people had vacated the bull pen, he threw himself down at his desk and dropped his head into his hands.
None of his ex wives had been this stressful to deal with when they were obviously upset.
How could his boy be more emotionally wearing than freaking Diane?
He sat there, staring blankly at his computer monitor for an hour before following up his own lead.
Ziva, Tim and Tony meandered back into the bull pen one by one over time and updated him on their respective leads.
Gibbs senses were heightened as he watched Tony recount his lead follow up. The kid made eye contact with him, but his eyes were closed off. He smiled, but it didn't reach his clouded eyes. His body language was tense; his words were polite, but clipped.
All in all, it didn't take a genius to realise that Tony wanted as much space between him and his boss as was physically possible.
Sighing, he nodded his head in acceptance of the sitrep and Tony immediately returned to his desk and buried himself in a database search.
An hour or so passed, and with Gibbs fighting the strains of exhaustion, decided to call it a night.
Tim and Ziva immediately jumped to their feet and packed up. The team leader watched with a sense of déjà vu as they stopped at Tony's desk and invited him out for drinks. Once again, the kid politely declined. No jokes, no put downs, just a simple and polite "no thanks guys not tonight, have fun though."
Ziva and McGee exchanged worried looks, but accepted Tony's refusal and walked slowly to the lift.
Throwing a few files into his desk drawer, Gibbs stood and threw his jacket on and strode over to a still seated, and still working, Tony.
"Hey DiNozzo, I said we're done for the day. Come on, pack up."
Looking up with that polite indifference once more, Tony shook his head.
"It's ok Gibbs; I want get some more work done on this lead before I call it a day."
A haggard Jethro nodded slowly, wondering how it could only be seven pm.
This was shaping up to be the longest day of his life.
"Well, why don't you come on over for dinner tonight when you're done then? I've got steaks in."
Tony stood and grabbed a file to photocopy, before shaking his head once again.
"No thanks, I've got some pizza with my name on it."
Gibbs squeezed his eyes shut wearily for a second.
"Well…why don't you come over for a beer then? The games on ton-"
"Actually Gibbs" Tony interrupted sharply, "I've been thinking, and maybe its best if we maintain a more…professional relationship. You're my boss, and I'm your subordinate. Just you know, with annual reviews coming up and new postings popping up here and there, I think its best that a working relationship is where the line is drawn. That way, everyone knows where they stand."
He paused for a moment to take in a deep breath and indicated the file in his hand.
"Anyways, I better get back to it. Goodnight Gibbs, have a nice evening."
With that, he turned on his heel with a tight smile and strode in the copy room, shutting the door sharply behind him.
Anyone watching the CCTV of the bullpen would have been tempted to call emergency services at the sight of the infallible LJ Gibbs, standing rooted to the spot, his mouth agape.
For five straight minutes, he didn't move. He just stood. Stood and stared and the door that was hiding Tony from view. The man he thought of as a son…and the man who thought of him as an employer.
Biting down the bile and lump in his throat, he blinked rapidly.
He needed air, he desperately needed air.
He turned and bolted from the bullpen, not stopping for a second until he got to his car.
Laying his head down on the cold metal, he felt his stomach churn and his palms begin to take on a clammy hue.
Struggling somewhat, he managed to get into his car. Twenty minutes later, he had somehow got himself safely to his driveway.
Two minutes later saw him slumped on the sofa, with a much needed beer clutched in his hand.
One sip later and there came a rap on the door.
Thinking it might be Tony; he bounded up from the sofa and darted to the door.
His face fell dramatically when he saw it was none other than Tobias Fornell on his doorstep.
Leaving the door open, he slunk back to the couch, murmuring for the man to help himself to a beer.
Moments later, Fornell was perched on an opposite armchair, eying his long time friend with worry.
"You ok Jethro? You look…well, you like hell."
"Thanks" muttered Gibbs in irritation, "look, no offence Tobias but it's been a bit of a day and…"
Nodding his head, the FBI agent set down his beer and got to the point.
"I'm here about Agent Sacks Jethro, he-"
"Aw hell Tobias, I know alright? It shouldn't have happened, and it's been dealt with ok?"
Fornell's eyes widened immediately.
"Dealt with?" he squawked, knowing full well how Gibbs "dealt" with things.
Sighing, the NCIS agent nodded wearily.
"Yes. It won't happen again ok, now if that's all…"
Groaning loudly, Fornell stood in agitation.
"Damnit!"
Looking up in alarm, Gibbs also stood.
"What? What's the matter?"
Knowing how what he was about to say would impact his friend; Tobias took a deep wavering breath.
"Sacks set the whole thing up Jethro. It didn't sit right with me, so I had our analyst examine the tape. Those two on the footage, they're Sacks' friends. The whole goddamned thing was set up to get your boy into hot water. I…I'm sorry Jethro, but you've…well you've punished the kid for no reason…"
The only sound to be heard in the house was the clatter of Gibbs' beer bottle as it fell from his hand, and careered across the floor.
….
TBC
….
A/N: Ok, so I wasn't going to update so soon, but I couldn't help myself.
Hope you enjoyed! I know it's a bit angsty, but its super fun to write.
(I love Gibbs as much as the next person, so don't worry, I'll fix him and Tony…eventually!)