March 1946
United States

Tony knocked on the door to the doctor's office. Much like the restaurant, Doctor Mallard's office was actually a room off of his residence. It had its own door instead of going through the house. Tony soon stood face to face with the older man.

"Anthony, my boy. Come in." and he stepped aside to let DiNozzo in.

Tony took a seat on the examining table as the doctor took the chair across. "What can I do for you?"

Tony stammered, "Well, sir, I, uh, cut my hand on some glass the other day in the restaurant. I thought maybe you should look at it. Can't be too careful."

Doctor Mallard, or "Ducky" as his really close friends called him, took Tony's hand in his and began to look it over. After a cursory review, he sat back down and gave his prognosis.

"I think your hand is just fine, Anthony. It appears the cuts weren't deep and it's healing nicely. I don't see any infection so just keep it clean and you should be fine."

Tony stood from the table, "Oh, okay, Doctor. Thank you. What do I owe you?" And he reached for his wallet.

"Is that the only reason you came, Anthony?"

DiNozzo hesitated but only briefly. He sat back down, this time taking the other chair across from the doctor, and asked, "What do you know about some World War I soldier who had problems adjusting to life stateside?"

Ducky smiled. Jethro had told him he had planted the seed in DiNozzo's head. Gibbs had told Doctor Mallard to go ahead and tell him everything; hold nothing back. When Ducky asked why Gibbs didn't do it himself, the Sheriff had responded, with a smile, "Because I don't remember everything and you do."

Doctor Mallard turned the sign to closed on his door and locked it. Looking back at Tony, he smiled. "Well, Lieutenant, I'll give you the answers you're looking for but I'll expect honesty from you in exchange. Fair enough?"

Tony should have said no and left right then but he knew he needed help. Something had happened last night. Working again in the restaurant had given him a sense of fulfillment that he hadn't known he was missing. Then, kissing Cali Gibbs had truly given him something to think about. For the first time, in nearly a year, Tony had gone to sleep on his own, not in a drunken stupor. And, for the first time in just as long, the ghosts had stayed away. He needed to know how to exorcise them for good. He suspected the Doctor and this former soldier had the answers. So, instead of saying no, he said yes and the doctor started the tale.

"I'm afraid, Tony, you already know the soldier. You just don't know you know him."

"Is that a riddle, Doctor?"

Ducky laughed, "Well, it wasn't meant to be but I guess it came out that way. Your World War I veteran is none other than Sheriff Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

Tony now understood one thing. The Sheriff had taken such an interest in him because he saw himself. That's how he had been able to make so many pointed comments to DiNozzo as if he had been reading Tony's mind.

"What happened?"

"Gunnery Sergeant Leroy Jethro Gibbs was a part of one of the first major Marine unit battles ever fought. It was the Battle of Belleau Wood in France. Almost ten thousand men were wounded with nearly two thousand killed. The battle lasted for nearly a month. Over and over different battalions of the 5th Marines division attacked the Germans. The tenacity of the enemy against the Americans was overwhelming. In one day of fighting, the Marines lost over a thousand men but they didn't give up. Finally, on June 26, 1918, the battle ended and the U.S. and the Marines held the ground."

Tony could imagine the fighting. In his time in France and Luxembourg, he had seen sieges go on and on. He had been involved in a similar battle that still troubled him.

"Jethro was part of a legendary group that was recognized not only by the French with their Croix de guerre medal of valor but he also received a Medal of Honor from the United States. Like you, Anthony, he's been decorated and rewarded for his valor."

"Did he tell anyone?"

"No, he didn't. He was, like you, reluctant to let anyone know of his success because of what it cost him personally."

Tony nodded, understanding completely, "It's hard, Doctor Mallard, to live, eat and drink with these men and then watch them die. You begin to wonder what makes you so special. Why aren't you the one that's dying?"

The hollow look in Tony's eyes reminded Ducky instantly of Jethro. He knew, now, why the Sheriff had wanted the tale told, no holds barred, to the younger man.

Tony finished, "So what happened?"

"Well, Jethro came back here. Again, much like you, he was on his own. His parents had died not too long before he entered the war. He was at loose ends, as it were. He tried his hand at several jobs before finally settling on one in Lyle Copeland's butcher shop."

Tony vaguely remembered the butcher, Mr. Copeland, as a big, barrel-chested man with huge arms. He was also quite soft-spoken which seemed such a contradiction. He knew that the Sheriff had spent time there most afternoons but not why.

"Things went well, at first, but Jethro had a hard time getting back into civilian life. Many nights he spent drinking with a group of roughnecks that were working in the neighboring town. He would leave the shop at 6pm, drink until 2 in the morning, be up at 6 from his military training and in the butcher shop by 8. Very hard on a man, regardless of how young or old you are."

Tony ducked his head. Except for the roughneck part, the drinking schedule sounded familiar.

"Did I mention," Ducky said, "That the butcher happened to have this beautiful red haired green eyed daughter that was completely infatuated with young Gunny Gibbs?"

Tony looked sharply at the doctor. "No, sir. You didn't."

"Well, Angela Copeland fell in love with Jethro Gibbs the minute he set foot in the butcher's shop. Jethro was twenty when he came back from Europe. Angela was fifteen. Needless to say, her father was none too happy."

Tony smiled again. He figured Gibbs would be the same if he knew Tony had kissed Cali.

Ducky watched Tony's face. "Something you want to say, Anthony?"

"Not right this minute, Doctor. I'd like to hear how this ends."

Ducky chuckled and continued, "Jethro kept up his drinking schedule for another six months. During this time, Angela would bring lunch for her dad and the new guy. She would drop by, on her way home from school, and suddenly decide her dad needed counter help. Well, Lyle had enough. He was smart enough to know his daughter wasn't going to change her mind so that left changing the habits of the young Mr. Gibbs."

Tony was on the edge of his seat as the doctor spun the tale, "Monday morning came and went and Jethro didn't show up for work. Tuesday morning came, and still no Jethro. Angela was inconsolable. Her father was mad at Gibbs for not being more responsible but mainly for making him deal with his distraught daughter. They found out later that Gibbs had spent the weekend, almost a year to the day that the Battle of Belleau Woods had ended, on a very big bender. No one knows for sure what transpired. Even Jethro himself doesn't remember. All he knows is that he served a month in jail doing hard labor. Because he had no money, he couldn't pay his fines to get out and he had no way to contact Mr. Copeland to let him know. Finally, a week after he was released, he showed back up at Lyle's."

"But certainly Mr. Copeland understood," Tony interjected.

"To a point. And he actually took Jethro back in as an employee. Angela, of course, was ecstatic. And everything was just fine until Jethro decided to go on another weekend binge."

Tony knew what that was like, too. "You promise yourself you won't do it. You won't drink this time. And then, something triggers the response. You hear something. You read something. You see someone who looks like someone you know and you spiral down." Tony hadn't realized he had said the words aloud until Ducky patted his arm.

"That's why he wanted you to hear everything, dear boy. He knew you could relate."

Tony smiled and Doctor Mallard continued, "When Jethro showed up two hours late on Monday, Mr. Copeland had had enough. He let Gibbs get his apron on and then he locked the front door of the shop. He tried to reason with the young Gunnery Sergeant, but Jethro being Jethro he didn't take kindly to Mr. Copeland's advice."

In his mind's eye, Tony could see the wily sheriff as a young man, quite full of himself and, as Tony would be, resentful of interference that he had not asked for.

"And?" Tony asked simply.

"Well, Mr. Copeland had been a bare knuckles fighter in his younger years. So he took Jethro out to the stock corral. Gibbs knew what was coming and he still didn't have sense enough to back down. Lyle let Jethro have the first punch. To his credit, he was able to bloody the big man's nose. After that, it was all Lyle Copeland. Leroy Jethro Gibbs took the beating of his life that day."

Tony didn't see the connection and said so, "How did that help?"

"Well, first of all, Jethro was so beat and bruised, he couldn't move for almost a week. But Lyle wouldn't let him off work. He put him in the storeroom in the back of the shop on a small cot. Gibbs worked his eight to ten hours a day and then went straight back to the cot. That way, Lyle could make sure of the whereabouts of the young man. Secondly, this allowed Jethro to dry out, privately. A man going through the DT's is not a pleasant sight; and going through it alone is almost impossible. Lyle was there to keep the infatuated Angela away and offer his help."

Tony could read between the lines on that comment, but he let it pass.

"Mrs. Copeland was none to happy with her husband's behavior. Angela wouldn't speak to her father and Mrs. Copeland had to listen to her daughter. Needless to say, Lyle spent many meals with the Gunny during that time. But that gave Jethro a chance to unburden himself, as well. After that week, Lyle and Jethro became very close. Anytime he had a major decision or a quandary in his life, Gibbs went to Mr. Copeland."

"I remember the patrol car being parked at the shop a lot of times. I guess that's why." DiNozzo replied.

"Well, that was one reason. The other reason was, of course, Angela. During those weeks of Gibbs' recuperation, she had to work the counter. All Jethro could really do was butcher meat and move things around. He once said that the view of Angela at the counter, her pony tail bobbing as she moved from customer to customer, that was the first thing that attracted him to her. He was at the shop all those afternoons, Anthony, because Angela worked the meat counter right up until the day she died."

"How did she die, sir?"

Ducky lowered his voice, "In a car accident. She was crossing the street and a man who had been drinking too much, hit her. Killed her instantly. Cali was twelve."

Tony nodded. Yet another reason Gibbs wouldn't want Tony around his family in his present state.

"One more thing, Doctor?" Ducky nodded as Tony asked, "How do you know so much about it?"

Doctor Mallard laughed, "Well, someone had to help treat the Gunnery Sergeant and make sure he lived. Lyle Copeland didn't want to fight that battle of having been the one to kill the boy his daughter was going to marry."

Tony smiled, while quietly processing everything the doctor had told him. He looked up to see Ducky watching him closely, too closely.

"Has this been helpful, Anthony?"

Tony stood, not quite knowing how to reply. "I had hoped the Sheriff wasn't going to have to use physical force with me."

Ducky smiled, "I don't think that's what he has in mind, Lieutenant. But, he does understand you better than you realize."

Tony nodded and headed for the door, the doctor behind. As he reached to unlock it, Ducky added a few more words, "Next time, Anthony. Squeeze something that won't break. Will you?"

Tony looked guiltily at the doctor but nodded. He thanked him again and DiNozzo left the doctor's office.

For the next several hours he wandered the streets of the small town. He wound up at Palmer's. He went in long enough to settle his bill from the other night and purchase a bottle to replace the one he had emptied at the apartment. Once he made the block nearing home, he took the back way so he wouldn't have to pass the restaurant's front. He slipped up the stairway and into the apartment.

Tony set the bottle of whiskey on the counter but pushed it aside. He reheated the soup Tim had brought and finished off most of it. His mind and body ached. His hands shook. He knew a drink would calm him but he was determined to do this by himself. He was Anthony DiNozzo. He didn't need anyone's help. He could do this alone.

It was still early, but Tony turned in for the night.