Chapter 16:
They had made it through the rest of the film with what Tony, these days, could happily accept as at ease.
There had, amazingly, been no major catastrophes after offering his boss to be his fucktoy. In fact, he had laughed it off and he was determined to never mention it again and would try hard to not to even think about it.
If he did, he might just finally swirl downwards and find a watery grave in the overpowering sea of embarrassment and humiliation.
Gibbs apparently had let it slide and Tony could do that as well. He was a master in letting things slide after all.
He wore a strong armor and most things that were thrown his way would just bounce off without affecting him. The things that made it through he could usually push away. If that failed he would just take what was affecting him and put it on that huge pile of shit he was carrying around anyway. Dealing with it every day was so incredibly hard anyway that it didn't make a difference if there was one thing more or less he was suffering from.
The catastrophes he brought upon himself due to his enormous stupidity were usually the ones rather hard to handle though.
He couldn't change it, he couldn't change who he was and he had no power to change what happened to him, so he had to endure.
Even though he tried hard to keep up the illusion, he knew that having control, was exactly that, an illusion.
This whole mess had been incredibly humiliating, starting at the moment Gibbs had found him sleeping in his car, or maybe, the morning he came all fucked up and hung over to work, and he had taken it to a really grandiose culmination point, that was for sure.
He was totally puzzled as to why Gibbs was still putting up with him. It had come close, but Gibbs had chosen to hit the wall instead of him. Even though he didn't know why Gibbs bothered, he was thankful for the amount of self-constrain he obviously had. He had expected the ass-kicking hours ago.
Tony would be damned before he took down his guard and defenses though, that would be just stupid, and painful. One of the truths he had learned early on in his life. Well, he should have learned that one early on, but it had taken a lot of lessons, hadn't it?
Gibbs for once had let him off the hook, had laughed and had laid back to watch a movie. Strange, unpredictable, unknown territory.
He had reverted to just going along for the ride. He would stay over at Gibbs' house for the night.
The day finally was coming to an end. It had stretched to what felt to be a thousand years or at least a hundred really horrible ones.
It would be awesome to get a break, to find some oblivion in sleep. They said that sleeping on it over night helped to sort things out; everything would look bright and shiny in the morning again.
Yeah, right! That wasn't how things worked for him. He wouldn't find oblivion in his sleep. Oh, shit! He couldn't sleep here. Things would look different in the morning, if he did, but definitely not bright and shiny!
The movie had ended and Gibbs had set the room for Tony, kindly allowing the young man to make himself at least a little useful.
It was a nice room. The furniture simple and practical, but of good and solid quality. It was the down-to-earth style that his boss stood for. A lot of wood and dark, warm colors. It made for a really comfortable atmosphere. Homey.
Tony had never managed to make his own apartment to feel homey. He possessed some pieces of furniture he loved, like his king-size bed with the precious satin sheets, which left this cool, smooth, soothing sensation on his skin. His TV, for sure, was dominating his living room. He wouldn't do without his DVD collection, his music and his books.
He had chosen light colors, giving everything a slightly sterile look. Everything was chosen to fit together and his apartment was always tidy and clean, bordering on empty.
That "pottery barn hominess" of Gibbs home, he'd joked about earlier, felt good. It wasn't everything fitting together, the interior wasn't planed by a designer, and not everything was set in order. This house had been lived in. It made it exactly that, a home!
Tony couldn't allow himself to be lured in though; he couldn't allow himself to relax. Not here. Not where he didn't belong.
He went to the bathroom pretending for Gibbs to get ready for the night.
He took a shower, a cold one, to keep him alert.
He changed into the clothes the older man had laid out for him. A little short, a little tight, but they would do. He had been running a little short on his wardrobe due to the fact that he couldn't get into his apartment.
Back in the guest room he sat down on the edge of the bed. His boss actually came to check on him. Wouldn't be surprised if the aliens made him tuck me in!
Once again today Tony could see a rarely seen expression on the face of the older man. Concern!
He couldn't take another round today. He wouldn't make it. He had to concentrate to make it through the night.
"Goodnight, boss!"
Gibbs looked disappointed at the missed chance, but luckily refrained from pressing on.
"Goodnight, Tony."
He heard Gibbs get to his own room and settle to sleep himself. He'd switched off the lights in the whole house.
Tony got up and switched the lights in his room off to. Too obvious.
Then he sat back on the corner of his bed and waited for the morning to come.
He could not risk sleeping. Not here. Not with the ex-marine so close by. His boss, who had the exceptionally good hearing of …, well something that had exceptionally good hearing.
He'd managed to be startled awake by a nightmare, just dosing off sitting in the stairway a couple of hours ago. He couldn't, no, wouldn't risk waking up screaming and crying in the guest room of his boss' house.
He cursed his damn inability to control his reactions upon waking from his dreams. He should be able to stay silent, but there always had been occasions when he had just not been able to stifle his screams. It had gotten him in serious trouble before, but he had never been able to learn that lesson.
When working undercover, pretending the whole day to be someone else, it usually got easier. Still he made sure, when constructing the persona, to have a plausible explanation for nightmares. Just as important as the rest of the cover story.
The day, well, actually the whole week, had been emotionally draining and he knew tonight he wouldn't be safe from his demons; they would turn on him, if he closed his eyes and let them out.
He had shared the same hotel room with his boss on two occasions since working for NCIS. They'd been on a case and there simply hadn't been a second free room available.
The first time he had waited till Gibbs had fallen asleep and then hid in the bathroom, where he had the privacy to keep himself awake. Trying to stay up reading all night had not gone down well before.
Second time Gibbs had been up to him, he was suspicious. Bailing to the bathroom this time was out of option. Gibbs had refused to fall asleep before his agent did.
So Tony had lain still on the bed the whole night counting his breaths: In, 2, 3, 4, Out, 2, 3, 4, In, 2, 3, 4, Out, 2, 3, 4,
It was wearing to stay awake that way, exhausting. But he had done it before, when he was a child an didn't want his mother to know he was awake (at least his father had never bothered if he slept or not), or on the rare occasion he got close enough to a girl to actually be supposed to sleep next to her (they usually freaked about manically screaming people in their bed; wetting the bed in the course of an especially bad nightmare did not go down too well either). He had gotten through that night.
And he would get through this night as well. He didn't need that much sleep in the first place.
His thoughts drifted to the Mansons, his next door neighbors. Former next door neighbors. They had died in their sleep.
A bitter lump formed in his chest. Upon finding them he had desperately tried to wake them, to reanimate them. He had carried both of them outside. Had again tried to revive them while waiting for the ambulance. He had failed.
They'd been good people. They didn't deserve to die. They had family, like a real family! Children and grandchildren, which visited on a regular basis and they got along well with.
Hearing their commotion through the thin walls, when there was family visiting, had always reminded him of that TV show 'The Waltons', Goodnight John-Boy! Goodnight, Mom Goodnight, Dad!
At least they had been together when they died. Bittersweet. Like the old couple in Titanic, who got into bed together, holding each other, before drowning.
His frame of reference – movies and TV shows.
He let his mind drift freely from one movie to the next, to a book he had read or a piece of music he could recall in his head. He had a thing for melodramatic Russian ballets.
His thoughts came inadvertently back to the happenings of the last hours and days. He pondered about it, he tore lumps out of himself for it. At least it kept him awake.
If his eyelid fell and he was losing the battle with Morpheus he pinched or punched himself to focus his attention again. He'd get some bruises from this. But he couldn't see any other choice in the matter.
He was deeply caught up in his troubled thoughts, when he suddenly heard footsteps in the hall. He managed to stifle his hitching breaths. Maybe he just went to the head?
No he stopped at the door of the guest room and opened it carefully. Why was he checking on him? Tony, whose eyes were adapted to the darkness, could see his boss peer into the room silently. He seemed to search for him. It was pitch-black; he probably couldn't see him yet.
He got very close. His face maybe only fifty centimetres from Tony. He probably expected him to be lying in the bed, sleeping soundly.
And suddenly his eyes cut through the dark, he saw directly into Tony's eyes and he literally jumped to the ceiling, startled.
"What the hell?" Gibbs hissed exasperated and searched to switch the light on. When he could finally see him, he eyed Tony up and down closely, once again bewildered about what was wrong with his friend.
"Boss!" Tony found his voice, desperately wishing him go away again. Just go back to sleep and forget about me, please.
Gibbs would definitely not go.
"What the hell?"
Author's note: That's Tony's POV on the matter. Please review!