"Ready to see your room?"

"M-my room?" He'd had a room at Uncle Tony's that he slept in, but it had never really felt like his. It had always felt like Uncle Tony's guest room. "Is it your guest room?"

"Nope," Gibbs tightened his grip on Nuka's right leg as he stooped to make it through the arch into the upstairs corridor. He'd found that he liked carrying Nuka around like this. It kept the weight off of Nuka's leg without making the boy feel like he was being babied. Beyond that, though, Gibbs liked the fact that it allowed him to touch Nuka. DiNozzo had mentioned that Nuka was nervous about physical contact, but Gibbs had studied psychology enough (and listened to Ducky enough) to know that physical contact was important to kids. Hopefully, the piggyback ride would help Nuka become more comfortable with that kind of thing.

Gibbs paused outside the closed door to Nuka's bedroom, a little curious as to how Nuka would react to it. He'd actually put some effort into making the room feel friendly. Where the rest of his house was sparsely furnished and conservative, he'd bought some furniture for Nuka's room that he thought was more child-friendly.

"What did the room used to be?"

Gibbs sighed. He wished that Nuka wouldn't go on about that. He was too young to act like he was worried about being a burden or something. "It used to be an office."

"What happened to the stuff that was in the office?"

"I moved it down to the basement."

"What was in the basement?"

"A boat."

"What happened to the boat?"

"Nothing. I just did a little rearranging. Do you want to see your room or not?"

"Yeah." There was a hesitant sort of excitement in Nuka's voice.

Gibbs nodded, pushing open the bedroom door and stepping in. He hadn't had time to paint since last night, of course, so the walls were still the steady marine blue of his office, but he had pulled some yellow curtains out of the attic which served to lighten the room. He'd had to buy a bed for Nuka, and, after contemplating between a sturdy plastic one and a more sophisticated wooden one, he had settled on the wood. This he had painted yellow with blue spots on it. It had dried just in time for him to put the mattress on before going to get Nuka that afternoon.

Across from the bed, beneath the window, was the desk Gibbs had used in his office, also painted yellow, with a blue wing-backed chair in front of it. He'd pulled a bright red bean-bag chair Abby had given him for Christmas a few years back out of the living room and set it in the corner of Nuka's bedroom.

"You can put your clothes in the drawer beneath your bed," Gibbs said, pointing, "or in the closet. I'm working on a toy chest for you, but for now you can put your play things—neatly—at the foot of your bed. And we can see about getting you a bookshelf this weekend, perhaps."

"Yes, sir."

Gibbs tapped Nuka's foot. "What'd I say about calling me sir."

"Not to. Sorry."

Gibbs laughed. "Why so quiet, Nuka? Do you like it?"

"Yes!" Nuka pulled on Gibbs' hair in emphasis. "It's amazing. I've never… Are you really making me a toy box?"

"I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true."

"That's amazing!" Nuka paused for a moment. "Only… I haven't got anything to put in it."

Gibbs swallowed. Hard. "Well, we'll have to fix that, won't we? We'll pick some toys up for you this weekend." Gibbs crouched in front of Nuka's bed, allowing the boy to fall onto the mattress. "You picky about food?"

"No, si—er, Gibbs."

"Allergic to anything?"

"No."

"Alright. I'm going to start dinner. Unpack your things, put them away neatly, and come downstairs. If you can slide down the banister without falling, you're welcome to. Otherwise, I'll come get you in half an hour."

Twenty-seven minutes later, Nuka placed both his hands on the banister of the stairs and hoisted himself up onto it. Biting his lower lip—it was more frightening to do this without someone at the bottom of the stairs to catch him—he carefully pushed off and began to slide down the banister. But he was going fast, too fast, and when he sailed off the end of the banister and tried to catch himself on his good leg, it didn't work out. He put the other foot down for balance and pain shot through him with gusto. He cried out, and then quickly clamped a hand over his mouth. Gibbs was going to kill him!

His eyes darted toward the kitchen. He could hear hurried footsteps coming in his direction. His heart drummed a heavy cadence in his chest. He had to get away! He ducked around the side of the staircase and saw an open door. He sidled through it, trying not to move it so Gibbs wouldn't know where he'd gone, and pressed himself against the wall so his shadow wouldn't show.

Gibbs came into view a moment later. Nuka could see him through the crack in the door, although he was fairly confident that he was hidden in the shadows. He tried to gauge from Gibbs' face how mad he was, but it was hard. Gibbs's eyes were a little crinkled around the edges and his mouth was turned down, but he didn't look really, really mad. Yet.

"Nuka? Where are you?"

Nuka closed his eyes. He would get in trouble if he didn't answer. He knew that Gibbs would find him eventually. Somehow, though, he couldn't get his mouth to work. He didn't want to be in trouble yet. He wanted to pretend that he was still going to get a toy box full of toys.

"Nuka James DiNozzo, to me, now!" Gibbs said in a voice that brooked no argument.

Nuka swallowed and then pushed open the door he was hiding behind, stepping into sight. He held his body tightly, trying to stay as small and unimposing as possible, though he knew it wouldn't help. He was in trouble. He couldn't help it! He always got into trouble, no matter how hard he tried to be good.

"You hit your leg when you slid down the banister."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, Gibbs. What did I tell you about the sliding down the banister?"

Nuka ducked his head. Why were they going over this? "You said to only go down it if I could do it without hurting my leg."

"And what were you supposed to do if you couldn't?"

"Wait for you to come get me."

Gibbs crossed his arms over his chest. "So why didn't you?"

"I thought I could slide down by myself. I didn't think I'd get hurt."

"No? When did you know that you weren't going to be able to do it?" When Nuka opened his mouth to reply, Gibbs held up a finger. "The truth, please."

Nuka bit his lip and thought about it for a moment. "I didn't know for sure until I landed on my good leg and couldn't stay up… But I was scared of going down without someone to catch me before I ever got on the banister."

Gibbs nodded at the distinction. "From now on, I want you to think things through more carefully. When you're scared, that's your body's way of telling you that there is a potential danger and you need to think things through especially carefully before acting. Got it?"

Nuka nodded, rubbing his palm across his forehead.

"Alright, sit on the floor so I can see if you've managed to hurt your leg any worse."

Nuka chewed lightly on his lower lip but sat as instructed. He had no need to anger Gibbs further. Gibbs stepped forward and crouched down beside him, and Nuka felt himself instantly holding himself more stiffly. Gibbs carefully pulled up Nuka's pant leg. He ran a calloused thumb lightly up Nuka's leg and then nodded, seemingly in satisfaction.

"Good. Let's go eat."

Nuka looked up sharply. "Am I in trouble?"

"Not any more."

Nuka was more confused at those words. "I was, though?"

"I don't know that 'in trouble' is the right phrase, necessarily. I was irritated. In any case, we have discussed the situation. It's over now."