Chapter Five: The Talk
Tony sat atop his desk, reading a printed copy of the report he had been reviewing-from social services. He was, well, appalled to say the least.
Gibbs walked in, coffee in hand. "DiNozzo," he said, upon seeing Tony.
"Sorry, boss," Tony said, hopping off his desk, thinking that's what the problem was. "Boss?" Tony said, coming to the front of Gibbs' desk.
"What is it, DiNozzo?" Gibbs sighed, not meaning to sound so bushed. It was just that he wanted to speak with Tony, not about the case.
"Uh, I got a report. A report from social services," Tony told.
Kate got up from her desk. "What's it say?"
"Noah Taylor, the marine's son, has a file. They found, um, sorry. They found bruises on him, too many, more than a kid should have. That was in '99. He was only," Tony paused, mentally doing the math, "three."
"What?!" Gibbs said, outraged someone would-scratch that-could do that to, not only a baby, but their own child.
"You heard me," Tony spoke in anger, shaking his head. "It's...despicable."
"His father?" Gibbs inquired.
Tony nodded. "Had to be. I saw his wife, Noah's mom. She had bruises, Gibbs. They were covered by makeup but still...evident."
Gibbs recovered, quickly saying, "Kate, you find Rose or Dane?"
"Yeah," Kate said with a sigh. "They're both doctors."
"What?" Tony asked.
"Pediatricians, to be exact," Kate specified.
He nodded. "Noah's?"
"Well, I'm not sure. Dr. Dane was his primary doctor. But they did work at the same hospital: Children's National," Kate explained.
"Bring 'em in and put 'em in interrogation," Gibbs ordered.
"Got it," Kate answered.
"Tony," Gibbs said.
"Yeah?" Tony said. Halfway to his desk, he turned.
"With me," Gibbs said, walking, not to the elevator, their usual conference room, ironically to an actual conference room. Tony slowly followed, looking confused.
Gibbs looked around the conference room, making sure it was empty. He motioned Tony in first, before stepping in himself and closing the door.
After a moment of silence, Tony asked, "What's up, boss?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Gibbs returned.
"What do you mean?" Tony smiled awkwardly.
"I mean, what's goin' on, DiNozzo?" Gibbs demanded.
"Wha-nothing. Nothing, boss," Tony charmingly smiled, pretending everything was good, everything was fine.
"That's not gonna work, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, unrelentlessly.
"What do you mean?" Tony spoke, continually smiling.
"DiNozzo. You're acting different. I wanna know, is it the case or is it you?" Gibbs asked.
"I'm not-I'm not acting different," Tony told him. Slowly, his smile began to fade as piercing blue eyes penetrated his facade. He relented, "Okay. Maybe, I dunno-Maybe I am acting different. It's not a-You don't have to worry about me, okay? I'm fine."
"Maybe you were or maybe you are, but I don't think so. You, you are acting different. Fragile, even," Gibbs told him honestly.
"Fragile? You think I'm fragile?" Tony said in disbelief. No one had ever told Tony DiNozzo they thought he was fragile. Annoying, yeah. Sexist, yeah. Immature, heck to the hell yeah. But, fragile? Vulnerable? Never.
"Yeah, fragile. What happened? The case?" Gibbs asked.
Tony put a hand over his eyes, saying, "It's not the case. It's...it's me. I...feel different. I don't know, okay. I'm doing my job, right? So, you don't have to-"
"But I do," Gibbs told him. He thought for a second, then said, "Were you…?"
Tony's eyes widened slightly as he realized what his boss was asking. "Was I…? No. Not...really at all."
"What's that mean? 'Not really at all'?" Gibbs questioned.
Tony sighed. "Look, boss. I don't really-I don't wanna talk about this, okay?"
"Well, you need to. Trust me. What happened?" Gibbs tried again.
Tony sighed again. "Alright. But I don't want-"
"I won't. Do I seem like a chatterbox to you?" Gibbs offered.
Tony laughed sadly, concluding, "No, no, you're not."
"So?" Gibbs said encouragingly.
"Oh. You still want me to…?" At Gibbs' nod, he muttered, "Right."
Gibbs waited, letting Tony go at his own pace.
"Um, okay. I wasn't abused. That's what you thought, right? I wasn't. I-My dad, after my mom...passed, he was...different. He kinda hit me sometimes when he got mad, but he mostly just ignored me. So, there you go," Tony finished.
Gibbs made sure he was finished before he replied, "Tony, that-That is abuse, okay?"
Tony stated, "No, he didn't mean to. He just, he got angry sometimes. And, hell, most of the time it was my fault! He's not-!"
"Tony, it's still abuse. And it's not your fault. Even if he hit you because he got mad! Alright? You can tell me that it doesn't count as abuse because it wasn't intentional or whatever, but not-You can't tell me neglect is unintentional. He knew what he was doing," Gibbs said, trying to get Tony to understand.
"He forgot-"
"You don't forget your child!" Gibbs resounded.
"Why do you-Why are you so angry? It's...it is what it is," Tony spoke.
"Well, tell me, DiNozzo, what would you do if you found out a little boy was being abused by his dad?!" Gibbs called out.
Tony realized he was referring to earlier in the squad room and said, "That-That's different!"
"How?!" Gibbs asked in disbelief.
Tony blurted out, "He could be saved!"
Gibbs had been utterly shocked few times in his life. This was one of them. He, of course, had not been expecting that. Anything but that. "Tony…"
"I'm damaged, Gibbs," Tony continued. "I know that. I...accept that. I'm too far-It's...too late. I'm-"
"Tony?" Gibbs tried again.
"What? You think I'm not completely ruined. You think it hasn't consumed me for twenty-four years? I'm...Anthony D. DiNozzo, Jr. I have his name. I'm-I'll always be connected to him. Always! I can't forget about it or him because every time I even write my frickin' name, it's him! I can't escape it! It's too late! And...you don't have to worry about me. I'm okay. I'm fine. I always am." After he finished, Tony walked briskly to the door and back to the bullpen.
Gibbs stayed behind as the door slammed shut. Frustrated with himself, he slapped himself on the back of the head. How could he be so stupid? DiNozzo-Tony DiNozzo-showed definite signs of abuse, he always had. Gibbs had been blind to it all, for two years! Tony was...untrusting?...to say the least. It had taken Gibbs two years to get DiNozzo this far. For the first year or so, he was a closed book. He was animated, but never gave anything away from his past. Only the present, only about the girl of the day, or something else unimportant. So, he wouldn't get hurt. After my mom...passed, Tony had said. He'd trusted his dad, before. His father had betrayed his trust a long time ago, but the fear remained today, clear as ever.
Tony, Gibbs had noticed numerous times, felt worthless, damaged, unimportant. He'd say things, meant as a joke, signs of low self esteem. He pretended, put on a mask, feigned high self esteem because nobody cared what had happened to him behind closed doors, nobody except his father. If he'd told anyone, which Gibbs assumed he'd want to, his father would've had to undergo questions accusing him of child abuse, and he didn't need that. So, he'd trained his only son, his little boy, to lie about the things done to him. He was a bastard.
Because of his father, Tony had suppressed emotions. 'Except for happy,' Gibbs thought. He rarely showed sadness, anger, worry, fear. He chose happy because no one would question a person for being happy, right? Smile, laugh, smile. Fake, fake, fake. All of it, fake. That Gibbs had known, suspected. He knew Tony like the back of his hand. He knew Tony's general happiness and his fake happiness. There was a big difference. Gibbs had suspected Tony was abused, just by his personality, his demeanor, his actions. He was insecure. That was to be expected after what happened with his last partner.
Gibbs shook his head. He was making excuses for not knowing to have a talk with DiNozzo the day, the week, the month, the year Tony had started working for him. Ignorance is bliss, Gibbs thought. That's why.
Physically, emotionally, neglectfully; Tony had shown signs. Gibbs kicked himself now, they were so obvious. When Tony was injured, he never said anything. He pretended he was fine, even when somebody asked if he was okay. Even if he wasn't.
Another thing, Tony had never said anything, but it was fairly obvious. He couldn't sleep some nights, whether it be nightmares or otherwise. Or maybe, possibly, afraid to sleep? He'd known Tony wouldn't say from day one. Too proud, too arrogant...too scared.
And that's what it always was, fear. Tony's father had scared him to the brink. He had taught Tony from age eight to be scared of him, but also to never show fear. Fortunately, Tony was good at it. Otherwise, who knows what could've happened.
Risk. Injury. Tony had had more injuries in the field than any other agent Gibbs had ever hired or worked with. Because he cared more about others and the case than he did about himself. He's worthless, remember? Unimportant. Uncared for. So, risk didn't matter. What did he have to lose? Only his reputation for being a screw up, an immature child, a lazy cop. It didn't matter.
But it did.
