A/N! Slept over a friends house, passed out around 3am, got my face drawn on by permanent marker, woke up at 4am, wrote this chapter, waited till 7am when they finally went to sleep, got my revenge (insert evil laughter here), got home, and typed this down! :) ENJOY! :)
Six.
"IF I AM correct-"
"And you always are." Abby piped up.
Ducky smiled at the young Goth, "Why thank you for the vote of confidence Abigail-"
Gibbs glared at both of them. "If you're correct, what?"
Ducky continued, "Oh yes, if I am correct, Anthony should start portraying signs of, well, teenage angst? Hmm, I don't know if I am explaining this quite as well as I would like. This isn't exactly in my realm of expertise, as you already know."
"What do you mean teen angst? Is that even a real thing?" Kate wondered aloud.
"Certainly so, Caitlyn." the doctor replied. "The usual sleeping late, waking up in the middle of the afternoon, being self-concious, eating like his stomach is a black hole, his moods might be a little 'quirky'," Ducky went on, "His love of music may differ, and it will certainly sound as if he's popping his own eardrums while listening to new alternative things his brain-which is now still developing, will be telling the young lad is more pleasurable than harmful, and of course, I hate to say it, but he will at times be rude, and things that didn't bother him before will more than likely be a bother now. Say, for example, he might roll his eyes more, he may find being seen with any one of us embarrasing. Normal American teenage things." Ducky finished.
McGee furrowed his brow. "But he's still Tony, twenty seven year-old Tony, just stuck in a thirteen year-old version of himself. He can't really act that way, can he? I mean, he was seventeen just two days ago, a teenager, and except for cursing a lot, rolling his eyes at me a lot, and being more uh..."
"Sexual Tim," Ziva cut in helpfully. "He made more comments about womens' behinds than usual last week."
McGee nodded, "Yeah, that. I mean, besides those few changes, he's still our Tony, I don't really think any of those things can apply to him, even if he is thirteen, Ducky."
Ducky nodded, "I understand what you mean, Timothy, but here is the thing I would like to take better time to further explain." he said. "As a seventeen year old, he was almost to the age of adult-hood, wherein he could still in some minor ways connect with his older twenty-seven year old self better, and therefore keep intact that which is himself. However, there is no way that a thirteen year old, a young boy who is at the brink of puberty and all of these other confusing changes can possibly find anything in common with a twenty-seven year old with a stable career, his own apartment, etcetera etcetrera, you see this, yes?"
Everyone nodded and the doctor continued. "What I am saying is that as Anthonys' age regresses he will be more afflicted with these kinds of things and his adult mind will be less and less in control of what he does and says and therefore, I am simply asking that you try to understand him and his behaviour during this time, and attempt not to, as he would say 'blow a gasket' if he does something that doesn't seem age appropriate for the twenty-seven year-old Anthony we know. If he gets more irritable than usual, or has odd interests and so on, his speech patterns will probably be more juvenile, things like that." Ducky told the team and the forensic expert.
"So, basically, he's going to be a teenager and we should all be scared." Kate surmised.
"In so many words, yes." Ducky agreed, with a chuckle.
"You taste like whiskey when you kiss me oh, I'd give anything again to be your baby doll, this time I'm not leavin' without you, you said 'sit back down where you belong, in the corner of my bar with your high heels on'!" In that moment, Tony chose to come into the room, headphones on, Abbys ipod blasting in his ears, red hoodie on, sporting fitted, faded blue jeans, ripped at the knees, rocking his head back and forth, eyes down, as he pressed buttons on the ipod, the small contraption lighting up. Palmer rushed in behind him with lunch for everyone.
"Speak of the devil!" Abby yelled, to get Tonys' attention, which only succeeded in making him turn up the music and shoot her a scathing glare. He haughtily grabbed a chair from Ducks office and bought it to the farthest corner of the room and sat down, not bothering to say hi to anyone or make conversation.
This had been why they'd had the meeting in the first place. Tony had been moody as hell these past three days since he'd turned thirteen. He barely talked to anyone, and the one time he had cracked even a half a smile was when Abby had told him he could borrow her ipod, telling him high-blast music always made her feel better.
"He's listening to Lady Gaga; his interests have definately morphed." Abby told the group. His communication skills lately had consisted of music lyrics and a not-so-subtle roll of the eyes.
For the first time in those seven days since Tony had changed and started living with Gibbs, the team felt sorry for Gibbs who had to go home with a moody teenager, instead of the other way around.
NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS
Tonys' attitude hadn't changed any, as he slumped on the couch, music still on blast, when they got to Gibbs house.
Gibbs had never dealt personally with a teenager, but he sure as hell remembered being that age, back-talking to his father, making a fight out of everything, just wanting to be left alone. So Jethro did just that, he silently left the room, went down to the basement, figured he'd give the kid what he wanted.
As he sanded his boat, Gibbs thought back on the last three days. The case had taken up two of those days, and he'd barely seen Tony; McGee and Abby had been called back only an hour after they'd arrived to his home to make sure Tony had been alright, and they hadn't come back that day or the day after. Tony had been by himself for the most part of those two days, and Gibbs hadn't really had the chance to call, so enveloped in the case he had been.
Yesterday, Gibbs had brought to work an oddly silent youth, who wouldn't look at him in the eye, had back-talked to Ducky, had told Ziva in an irritated tone to "learn English already", had broken McGees' keyboard by "accident", and had snorted at Kate when she offered his a tofu wrap and told her it didn't matter how many of those she ate, because she was getting "fat" anyway. Abby giving him her ipod had been the one thing to save her from any mistreatment.
Even at times during those two days when Gibbs had been able to get a hold of Tony on the phone, he'd known something was off. His answers were one word responses, and he'd hung up on him mid-sentence so many times that Gibbs was begining to get a taste of his own medicine. He had to wonder briefly if there was something wrong with Tony. Besides the obvious and all that teen angst his old friend Ducky had been rammbling about earlier that day.
Jethro missed Tony. He'd gotten used to living with someone who's company he actually enjoyed, again. None of his ex-wives had ever provided that feeling of familiarity and notalgia for him. The last week living with Tony had bought him a comfort and a feeling of...of what, he couldn't really say, except that he enjoyed sitting down to dinner together, talking about sports and books and work and the team. He enjoyed coming home to a home-cooked meal, he enjoyed coming home to see Tony, he enjoyed teaching him how to work on the boat in the basement, he liked that Tony took the time to chastise him about things like eating habits and too much caffine, and his reckless driving, and his rising blood preasure, reminded him to wear his reading glasses-because all these things meant he cared.
Seeing Tony like this now, being completely un-Tony made Gibbs think maybe the sudden change in attitude wasn't entirely just do to teenage angst. With that, he got up, marched up the stairs, and to the living room, expecting to see the moody thirteen year-old hunched over on the couch, permanent scowl on his face as he listened to Abbys' cacophony of music.
Instead he saw the youth huddled into the couch, ipod on the a small table, head phones on the floor, teen fast asleep. "Hey, Tony, wake up. C'mon." he shook the boy gently. Getting no response, he swept Tony up in his arms, surprised at how light he was, and carried his limp body into the guest room. He plopped him down softly on the bed and set to work, pulling the semi-oversized hoodie off of him, and the tattered jeans as well, leaving him in only his boxers and a white tee.
"...Dad." Tony mummbled, still quite asleep.
The word nearly tore at Gibbs heart and he didn't know why. Of course Tony would want a blood-relative at a time like this, when he was surely at a loss. So why did hearing the boy call out for his father make him feel so useless? Gibbs left the room before he could hear anymore, his chest suddenly feeling much too heavy.
Tony squirmed and tossed and turned in the bed, brows furrowing, "Gibbs..." he cried out softly, the word barely registerable. "Mmm...Gibbs...whe're you?" Tonys' small frame curled into itself. He'd felt so alone those two days, and he knew they were all just doing their jobs, solving a case, had hid his dissapointment well when Abby and McGee had to rush and leave on that first day. No tv, no one to call really and talk to, not the way he sounded currently, anyway, just a lot of empty time and his own thoughts to consume said time.
Which had only gotten him depressed, if he was honest with himself. He had still wanted Gibbs to be there, even though he knew at the time that was impossible. They were working a case. Then that nasty thought had popped into his head. 'Work always comes first Junior, you know that.'
Tony had nearly lost it. No no no no no! Gibbs is nothing like that man! He'd told himself repeatedly. Gibbs cared about him, even if work did come first sometimes! Gibbs wasn't drunk everyday, if he was ever angry there was a legitamite reason as to why! He didn't lash out at people for no reason. He didn't ignore Tony. He didn't strike Tony. He didn't forget about Tony in Maui when he was twelve for two days...
But he did leave him for two days in this empty house, called maybe twice to check up on him-more than his Father had ever done. Tony had shaken his head. No, it wasn't the same thing at all! But it was getting harder to distinguish the moments apart. Because as lonely and miserable as he'd been those two days at the Hilton Hotel, was how he'd felt those two days when just about everyone had left him...knowingly this time.
Tony twisted in his bed, the thoughts in his subconscious rising to the surface. "Gibbs..." he called out in his sleep, becoming more and more restless. "Gibbs!" he became louder, flailed harder, the sheets were half off the bed by now. "Gibbs!" he cried.
Jethro ran across the hall and into the room Tony occupied in record time. If his bad knee popped slightly as he ran to the thirteen year-olds' bedside, it was ignored. "Hey hey, shh, it's okay, it's okay, I'm here Tony." he soothed the distraught young man, gently swiping the hair from his forehead.
Tonys' green eyes opened up then, glazed over, as he was still half asleep. "Gibbs..." he uttered. "Missed you." he murmured, taking hold of the older mans hand clumsily. "Don'leamme." he pleaded, eyes desperate and lost. "Please."
Gibbs swallowed hard. "Scoot over." he climbed into the bed with the boy, wrapped his arms around the small frame, felt his body relax, watched as Tonys' breathing regulated, and eventually he went to sleep again, head nuzzled into Gibbs neck, body tucked into his.
Was that it? He'd missed him? Was that the real reason for the attitude the past three days? Gibbs tightened his hold on the teen. "Don't worry Tony, I'm right here. I won't leave you again." he kissed the top of his head, feeling so at ease with the boy in his arms that he too soon enough went to sleep. Gibbs had not felt so at home, so safe, so warm, so at ease to close his eyes and slumber in this house since his wife and child had been murdered.
Here and now, with Tony curled into him, snoring lightly, one hand gripping at his shirt, the other tucked beneath him, Gibbs slept soundly.
A/N! Liked? REVIEW! Free (imaginary) Tony plush dolls for everyone who reviews! :D BTW! OH MY GOD, Thank you so much for all the reviews in my prior chapter, you're all awesome 3 And thank you to everyone reading so far, everyone who put this story on alert or in their favorites! I appreciate it soooo much! :D AND! I hope everyones' doing alright in light of Hurricaine Irene! STAY INDOORS OR EVACUATE IF WARNED! :O Stay safe guys!