A.N. Alright, I decided to make this story just one shots of Tonys life with autism from when he was a child to when he's like a teen! So, I'll just randomly post new oneshots (don't worry, his age will be specified in each oneshot), and whatnot. :) Hope you guys like it! And any ideas or suggestions for new one shots are welcome btw! Reviews would be awesome!

Tony wakes up one night, it's past midnight, and he's awake, and that's not right, that's not in his schedule. He goes to sleep every night at 10:30pm on the dot, he wakes up every morning at 6:45am and gets ready for school. So he wonders why he's awake now, he should be asleep. Something in his gut is churning. Something isn't right with the world. So the fourteen year-old gets up, very irritated with himself for waking up at all, because now his whole sleep schedule is messed up.

He walks the narrow hall between his room and his dads room. He's about to barge into the older mans room, when he pauses, remember how Ducky always chastises him when it comes to manners: "Knock first young man."

Tony nods to himself, knocks first, waits impatiently, and upon recieving zero response, he fidgets at the doorway for another minute before announcing "I know Ducky says not to, but you're not being a very good listener right now, so I'm barging in!"

No one occupied the bed or the room, and Tony starts. He gets on his hands and knees and looks underneath the bed for his dad, then he brushes himself off, and goes looking in the closet, with the same results. His dad is nowhere to be found. Tony fidgets some more, a panic starting to well in his chest. He should go back to bed and in the morning at exactly 6:57am, he'll walk into the kitchen and see his dad there, hot cup of coffee in his hands, leaning against the counter, breakfast in the making.

Except his gut doesn't let him, because something isn't right. This room is his dads, that bed is his dads, it's past midnight, his dad should be on that bed, because it belongs to him, so he should be in it, asleep, because it's only reasonable, Tony tells himself. The teen walks down the stairs, turns on the living room lights, looks down, trying to adjust his eyes to the brightness, and makes his way to the kitchen; no Gibbs in sight.

He hates going to the basement at night, when he was eight, he'd wandered down there and fallen down the stairs and broken his arm. It had been one of the most frightening experiences of his life, and Tony thought even more so for his dad, who'd practically sobbed on the way to the hospital. Nonetheless, he opened the door to the basement, and there he was! Tony made sure to watch his every step as he went down the stairs, grabbing onto the handrail with both hands.

"Dad, you're not supposed to sleep on the boat!" he called out, as he reached the final stair. "It's bad for your back, Alies' brother is studying to be a-a chiropracter, but he's not licensed yet, so you should get down from the boat." Tony looked up just briefly, to see if his dad had listened to him yet. When it was clear that Gibbs had no intention of waking up anytime soon, Tony scowled. He hated physically contact to an extreme, but if it got his dad to get up, there was no other choice, and screaming was out of the question, Abby had taught him long ago to use his "inside voice" and he didn't want to end up dissapointing her now.

Tony quickly poked Gibbs cheek, hoping that would be enough to stir him. After a few minutes, he let out a frustrated sigh and took hold of one of Gibbs shoulders, shaking it, enough to rouse the man awake, finally. He blinked his eyes, groaned as he sat up. "Tony? What're you doing awake, kiddo?" Gibbs asked, yawning and stretching.

Tony stared up at the ceiling. "Bed, you need to go to bed. The boats bad for your back, I told you this, but you never listen. You're a bad listener, Kate complains about you hanging up the phone on her all the time. I agree." he nodded his head to his own words, as if they were in a sequenced beat or rhythym.

Gibbs got off the boat, smiled at his son, "You're right, that thing's hell on my back."

Tony nodded impatiently, staring at the floor, he wanted to go back to bed. He held out his hand and grasped his dads, pulling him lightly up the stairs. Gibbs let himself be led, surprised by the peculiar action, but not questioning it, either.

He pointed to Gibbs bed once they'd gotten upstairs. "There, you see? That's where you're supposed to be. Bed, not the boat, the bed." he said succintly, dragging him to the bed, telling him to lay down and sleep. He then did something more peculiar even. Tony climbed onto the bed himself, and lay down next to his dad.

Gibbs blinked, "Tony-"

"You made me get up, I'm tired, I'm going to sleep. Stop talking, Ducky says I need to follow my schedule or I get upset. I don't want to be upset. I'm staying here. This is my side for tonight, don't come to my side, stay on your side, or I won't be happy."

Gibbs nearly laughed, but reminded himself Ducky also wanted Tony to be well-mannered, too. "Tony." he warned, "I don't like that tone, it's not 'stop talking', you know the nice way to say it."

Tony shuffled around in the bed, huffed. "I'm sorry. I meant to say, please be quiete and please don't intrude on my side of the bed. I'm small still, you could squish me."

This time, Gibbs did laugh.

"Don't laugh, that's not polite, I was being sincere. I'm telling on you to Ziva, she can kill people with paper clips, she said so, so I know she can."

Gibbs pecked his sons' forehead, then went back to "his side" of the bed. "Goodnight Tony, I love you."

Tony nodded. "Yeah, I know." he sunk into the pillow, the familiar scent of his father lulling him into a deep sleep.