Associate

Maria watched her baby as he searched her face for- for something. He prayed out loud, and she nodded at the words and smiled to herself with satisfaction. That very prayer was one of the first that she had taught him as a toddler.

He brought her joy, had brought her joy for so many years.

Maria frowned. Who would look after him when she left with the light?

Every hour on the hour throughout the night nurses entered the room and performed several medical procedures, attempting to assess a change in the patient. None occurred. The machines and monitors continued to function, doing their part to keep Maria alive.

Tony left the room just once, to purchase a cup of coffee from the hospital's cafeteria. He returned within ten minutes and took his seat by the bed, sitting as he had before he left. He drifted off to sleep a couple of times, but would wake up in a panic within a half hour. The ICU rooms had no televisions, so for the most part Tony spent his waking hours whispering words of love and encouragement to Maria, thinking, and praying.

Ducky woke him the next morning.

The exhausted young man had dragged his chair sideways beside his abuela's bed around four, and had leaned his pounding head against the mattress for just a moment.

Tony ran his fingers through his hair as he stood and bent down to check Maria. There was no change. Stretching, he regarded Ducky sheepishly. "I didn't hear you come in here. I'm sorry."

The older man smiled sympathetically. "That much is obvious, lad."

Tony started towards the room's private bath, and the doctor called out a warning, "Anthony, your father will get here in just a couple of minutes. You know as well as I that he will want to make sure that you are all right- that he is satisfied that you are okay, before he agrees to having you stay any longer. My advice is to make yourself presentable quickly."

The younger man smiled gratefully, realizing as he shut the door that his dad, Marine or no, would probably always worry about him. He washed his face and smoothed down his hair, then helped himself to the hospital's complimentary toothpaste and toothbrush. Wincing at the strong antiseptic taste of the mouthwash, he reminded himself that beggars could not be choosers.

Jethro headed immediately to Maria's side when he entered the room, straightening her cover and pillow and trying to physically reassure himself that she still breathed. Satisfied, he sighed loudly.

Ducky looked up every now and then from her chart, obviously comparing the written medical notes to Maria's observable condition.

When Tony emerged from the bathroom five minutes later his father made a quick visual assessment before crooking a forefinger to motion him to his side. He threw an arm around his son's waist and the other around his shoulders, and then pulled the boy against his body, kissing the top of his child's head.

Tony moved into the embrace and nuzzled against his father's shoulder before assuring him in a muffled voice, "All's well, Dad."

Jethro finally pushed him back a bit to tilt up his chin and questioned, "Did you get any sleep?"

Tony tried to sound exasperated. "Of course I did. In fact, Ducky had to wake me when he got here."

"Hmmm….What about eating? Did you eat some supper last night after we left you?"

Tony hesitated. He did not want to lie outright. His father had always displayed some kind of sixth sense or something which he used to ascertain if Tony were telling the truth. Getting caught in a blatant lie, or even with the sins of omission or evasion, always ended badly for him. He thought quickly.

"What I need is a hearty breakfast." He grinned at his father, sidestepping the question altogether.

Ducky spoke decisively, "Lad, go downstairs and get something to eat straightaway. Jethro, you go as well. You two can catch up over some coffee. The doctors will begin rounds in a couple of minutes, and I want to consult with them."

Tony started to protest, but his father held up a forefinger and shook his head.

Sighing in defeat instead, he kissed his grandmother softly and told her he would return shortly.

He and Gibbs ran into Tia and Veronica at the elevator bank, and the newcomers followed them to the cafeteria. Lorenzo, they shared, had to get to his job, but would come in the afternoon the moment that he finished work. Tony escorted his Tia, keeping his arm around her shoulders and pulling out her chair when they claimed an empty table.

Something had shifted significantly in Tony's universe, had shaken the very foundation of the world as he knew it. The obvious modification certainly involved his grandmother's critical condition. However, a more subtle shift had taken place. For the first time that he had contradicted his father as an adult, already a rarity, his dad had acquiesced and allowed Tony to make his own decision. Further, Jethro had honored that choice. The feeling empowered him in a way, yet in another, it made him appreciate the burden his dad had shouldered all these years, as a single parent.

That understanding applied to his grandmother, as well. She had taken upon the task of molding him, and rearing him, and loving him into his adulthood.

Yet at the same time, he genuinely felt relief that his father sat across the booth from him, powerful and reliable. Tony looked at the strong, familiar planes of his dad's face and felt a rush of emotion overwhelm him. For those moments when Tony still needed him to take charge while Tony reverted into the comfort and safety of childish immaturity, Leroy Jethro Gibbs would look out for him.

Suddenly Tony realized that everyone at the table had turned to him. He had obviously been asked a question that he had failed to process. He grinned sheepishly at the others. "Lo siento, I am sorry, my mind had drifted far away."

The others smiled sympathetically. Jethro regarded him appraisingly from the opposite side of the table and Tony looked down quickly, pretending an interest in his eggs he did not really possess.