I was a little slower proofing than I thought, but here is the first chapter and you should hopefully have the second chapter this evening. I hope that this chapter doesn't disappoint you all—I've tweaked it several times. Now, let me say that once again I apologize for the delay but unfortunately real life has to come first. I appreciate everyone who is sticking with me and for the readers who just found this story. Hope you continue to enjoy it.
Part 22
Tony knew that the team leader didn't believe for a moment that he was up to the challenge of confronting the press and truthfully, he wasn't so sure himself. However, it was something that he had to do. The past week had been a continuous nightmare; the media had done everything in its power to make his life even more miserable than it already was. They were like vultures circling overhead waiting for him to keel over so they could swoop down and pick him apart bit by bit. Tony was tired of their games and he was going to put an end to them; after today, his life would be strictly off limits to the press.
"You don't have to do this," Gibbs reminded him. "I'll take care of them."
He bit back a sharp retort. Tony needed Gibbs to understand that he didn't expect or want the older man to serve as his constant protector; he was more than capable of looking after himself. Shifting in his seat, he winced as he was faced with a painful reminder of his current physical limitations—maybe he wasn't as capable as he thought he was. Tony managed to slow his breathing so that he could control the pain as it receded to a dull ache. He also took advantage of the few seconds to douse the flames of his ever burning temper before he answered the Marine. He despised the lack of control that he had over his emotions; it only served to exacerbate his self perceived weakness.
"I don't need you fighting all my battles for me, Gibbs," he wearily replied. "I can do this."
The young man had expected further protest from both Gibbs and Ducky, but fortunately, neither man uttered another word. Instead, the two older men got out of the car and were now positioned outside his door to help him. Tony had to admit that he was grateful for their assistance; his knee was throbbing and he wasn't sure that he would be able to get out of the car on his own. He heard Gibbs order the reporters to back away from the car, informing them that they would receive a statement within a few minutes. Once again, the agent's bone chilling glare seemed to persuade the press to listen to him as they slowly headed towards the porch.
The car door opened and he handed his crutches out the to Ducky; Gibbs took his good hand and carefully helped him out of the car. Once Tony gained his balance, he took his crutches and slowly made his way towards the front door. He knew that he wouldn't be able to make it up the steps; his whole body was seemingly protesting the abuse that the too stressful day had caused. Tony had already decided that he was going to have to suck it up until the press left; there was no way in hell that he was going to allow them to see how weak he actually was.
Once he reached the steps, he slowly turned around to face what he had already deemed to be a lynch mob. Maybe they weren't going to actually lynch him, but he doubted that their intentions were honorable; they wanted a story and he knew that they were more than willing to sensationalize the details of his life. Gibbs and Ducky were on either side of him, offering their silent support as the reporters continued to fire questions at him while simultaneously snapping pictures.
"Mr. DiNozzo, how are you feeling about today's events?"
"Do you think that the justice system failed you?"
"Will you be required to testify at the trial of Charles Sterling?"
"What about the guards who took part in the repeated assaults against you? Will you be testifying at their trials?"
"Do you plan on suing for damages?"
"Has NCIS contacted you about reinstating you as an agent?"
"Do you feel that you could be an effective agent if you did return to NCIS?"
Tony was bothered and humiliated by their invasive questions. He had usually supported freedom of the press but at the moment, he was seriously reconsidering his stance on that particular constitutional right. The fact that they had brought up the fact that he had been assaulted on more than one occasion was terrifying; he wanted to put all those memories in a locked box and forget about everything that had happened, but it appeared that at some point in the near future, he would probably have to confront his demons. Why did they care what happened to him? As far as he was concerned, his life was none of their business and was more than prepared to remind them of that particular point. "I have something to say and this will be the only statement that you will get from me." He paused and then added a curt, "Ever."
The small crowd remained hushed, anxiously awaiting his words. As he stared into their hungry eyes, Tony began to wonder if he shouldn't have taken Gibbs up on his offer. He had backed himself into a corner and now he was going to have to fight his way out of it. Tony stood as tall as his still recovering body allowed and nervously cleared his throat.
"I want nothing more than to forget this past year of my life," Tony began, hoping that he sounded more confident than he felt. "Your presence and your never ending questions do nothing but force me to dredge up memories that need to stay buried. You want to know how I feel? Simply put, I don't. I don't allow myself to feel because it serves no purpose; just as most of you serve no real purpose but to write and tell lies in order to humiliate and destroy people's lives. I can vividly recall what you all said about me when I was first accused of murder. Do you all remember? Disgraceful. Embarrassment. And those were some of the nicer things that ended up in print or on television."
Tony felt sick; the urge to throw up was substantially increasing every moment he forced himself to face the crowd of predators. Taking a deep breath, he blew it out and continued. "After this conference or whatever you want to justify it as, is done, my life is off limits. So, let me answer your earlier questions and then I want you all to leave me the hell alone. "Regarding today's events, I have no comment. Do I think the justice system failed me? No comment. I have no idea as to whether I will be required to testify; I personally would prefer to never set foot in another courtroom."
His arms were trembling against the strain of holding himself up with his crutches. He knew he had to end this soon before he ended up face planting on Gibbs' front porch. "I haven't given any thought about money except for the fact that I don't have any. I also have no comment on my future employment. So, to sum everything up in a nut shell, mind your own damn business. Go find something more worthy of your time and leave me the f*** alone. I'm sure that you can find better things to do."
The weary man suspiciously eyed a reporter, who had stepped out from the other members of the press. Tony recognized the gleam in the younger man's eye; this guy was determined to try and bait him. "Excuse me, Mr. DiNozzo?" He didn't give Tony an opportunity to reply. "My name is Martin Jarrells with the Baltimore Sun. You failed to address the question regarding the men who assaulted you. Will you be attending their trials and are you concerned that certain elements of your incarceration will be made public?"
Tony clinched his teeth, aggravating the headache that had taken up residence in his skull. This man was purposefully baiting him and his instinct was to take his crutch upside the reporter's head. "No comment," he seethed.
"We're trying to report the truth and…"
"Don't even go there," Tony warned. "I'd hate to whip out my Jack on you." In fact, I'm pretty sure that you, Mr. Miller, wouldn't know the truth if it bit you in the ass." At one time, he would have truly been more than willing to quote Jack Nicholson's full soliloquy from A Few Good Men, but now, he lacked the energy and the desire to revert back to habit that most probably considered to be an obvious flaw in his personality. Believe me, you all couldn't handle the truth and you aren't interested in hearing the truth. The best thing for you and all your friends is to leave. Now."
The reluctance of the reporters to depart the premises only served to fuel Tony's anger. "Didn't you hear me? Turn off the cameras, put your notepads up, get in your cars and get the hell out of here!" A string of profanity began to escape his lips, but he didn't care. He wanted these idiots to know exactly what he thought of their vulturine tendencies. He started to throw one of his crutches at the reporters but his effort was cut short by the Marine still standing beside him.
"Easy, Tony," Gibbs quietly urged.
Tony ignored the team leader's attempts to dissuade his tirade; he was tired of people telling him what he should do. The past year, he had been told when to eat, when to sleep, when to wake up, and what to think; he was supposed to be free, so why couldn't he say what he wanted? He was so tired of being at the mercy of others.
In his anger, Tony lost his semi-precarious balance; if it hadn't been for Gibbs and Ducky, he would have definitely ended up on the ground. As the two men assisted him into the house, he clenched his jaw against the pain and the nausea that was quickly threatening to overwhelm him. Tony felt a sense of gratitude towards the two men that they had whisked him away from the media circus as he finally lost the contents of his stomach behind the closed front door and on Gibbs' floor.
The trembling young man could feel Ducky and Gibbs supporting him as he heaved. Tony had no idea how long he stayed hunched over throwing up all over the agent's floor; of course he wasn't sure why he was so sick since he hadn't been able to eat much lately. "Sorry," he mumbled when he was finally through.
"Don't worry about it," the Marine said. "Let's get you cleaned up and settled, then I'll worry about that."
He allowed the two men to help him to the bathroom, but when he got to the door, he paused and blew out a shaky breath. "I can take it from here."
"Are you sure?" Ducky inquired.
"I can do it!"
Tony knew he had no reason to yell at the doctor, but his nerves were completely frayed. The stress of the day had finally caught up to him; he wanted to be able to do something for himself and more importantly, he wanted to be alone. He had to pull himself together; Tony had lost control and he had to regain his center, which he couldn't do with an audience.
"I'll bring you a change of clothes," Gibbs quietly offered.
Although they were reluctant to do so, the two men stepped back and allowed Tony to make his way into the bathroom. Closing the door behind him, he set his crutches aside and braced himself against the sink. He refused to look at his reflection in the mirror because Tony knew that the man staring back was a stranger; the young man hated what he had become, but he knew that he could never go back to who he was.
A soft knock at the door brought him out of his self-deprecating thoughts. "It's Gibbs. I've got some clothes for you." Tony opened the door and took the clean underwear, t-shirt, and sweatpants. The team leader also handed him a plastic bag and pointed towards his cast. He nodded his thanks and closed the door, this time locking it, ensuring his privacy. Hobbling over towards the toilet, he lowered the lid and sat down. He slowly began taking his knee brace off and then stripping off his clothes. His movements were slow and guarded, but time no longer seemed to matter to the hurting man.
He carefully wrapped his wrist in the plastic bag so his cast wouldn't get wet. Honestly, he wasn't sure why he even bothered wrapping it up. The cast was supposed to come off in a couple of days and be replaced with a soft one, but Gibbs had gone to the trouble to bring him the bag, so he supposed he could oblige the older man this one thing. Shakily standing to his feet, he turned on the hot water, looking forward to having the warmth cascade over his weary body. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the door was still locked. Tony wasn't satisfied with a simple visual confirmation. He leaned against the sink and reached for the door and twisted the handle; breathing a sigh of relief, he cautiously stepped into the shower into the streaming water.
As the water hit his back, he momentarily felt the tension in his overly taxed muscles ebb away. He quietly chastised himself for letting his guard down, even for a moment; Tony knew that he wasn't in any danger but it was still difficult for him to completely relax. Despite his injuries, he quickly washed his hair and his body and cut the water off; perhaps one day, he would be able to stay in the shower more than a couple of minutes at a time and not worry about looking over his shoulder.
Tony grabbed his towel to begin drying off. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he stepped out of the shower and onto the rug. Tiredly leaning against the wall, he slid down until he was sitting on the floor. The silence in the room that had been welcome was now unnerving as images and voices began to assault his mind. Memories mixed with the events of the day were merging together, becoming a jumbled mess. Tony began pounding his fist against the floor, not caring that the repeated abuse was shredding his cast. Tears began to stream down his face as he realized that pain seemed to be the only thing keeping him from losing his mind.
Would he ever be completely free? There were so many obstacles in his way and Tony had no idea how to overcome them. A frantic knock at the door forced him to choke back a sob. He was weak and he was ashamed and now Gibbs and Ducky would know what a coward he truly was.
"DiNozzo? You all right?"
Tony swallowed hard and answered through clenched teeth. "I'm fine, Gibbs. I'll be out soon."
"Are you sure?"
He leaned his head against the wall. The only thing that Tony was sure about was that he was one screwed up bastard. He needed to leave before he hurt anyone else. Where would he go? Tony had no idea, but at least he wouldn't be a constant reminder for Gibbs and his former teammates of all that they had lost. He no longer wore the moniker, Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo; he was Anthony DiNozzo, former convict and newly self-proclaimed loner.
The sound of the door unlocking forced him back to the present moment. Damn it! he thought to himself. What did Gibbs think he was doing?
"I said I was fine!" he barked as the team leader peered inside the bathroom.
"Is that why you're sitting on the floor?"
"I'm fine! Can't you get it through that thick head of yours that…"
"That what?" Gibbs challenged. "That you don't need my help? You're sitting on your ass in my bathroom floor with a towel wrapped around you; seems to me that you need a lot of help. Asking for help is never a weakness, DiNozzo."
He used to think Gibbs' persistence was one of his best qualities, but now, DiNozzo was mentally cursing the steel doggedness that his former mentor possessed. Making sure his towel was secure, Tony shakily pushed himself up off the floor, bracing himself against the wall. Once he was on his feet, he met Gibbs' determined glare, silently daring the man to say another word. "I'll be out in a minute," he growled.
Tony didn't miss the barely imperceptible smile that escaped the Marine's lips as he turned to leave. He had allowed Gibbs to bait him and he had fallen for the tough love act, hook, line, and sinker. As the older man closed the door behind him, Tony muttered to himself, "Well played, Gibbs."
Drying off as quickly as his protesting body allowed, he pulled on his clothes and began to finish peeling off the remains of his cast. Tony then carefully flexed his wrist and decided that he could live with the troublesome twinge. Ducky wasn't going to be happy with him, but it didn't matter; despite the ME's probable insistence, he had already made the decision that he wasn't going to have another cast put on.
Glancing at his crutches, he decided that he would try and make do without them as well. He gingerly put his weight on his bum knee and discovered that he could tolerate the pain; becoming more mobile would be another step in gaining his independence and putting distance between himself and everyone else. Opening the door, he carefully headed out to the living room, steeling himself for the lecture he was probably going to receive from Ducky and Gibbs.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Practicing a bit of that tough love, Jethro?" Ducky asked.
"Maybe," Gibbs conceded. "Some things don't change; sometimes DiNozzo still needs a swift kick in the rear end."
"Agreed. But considering everything, don't you think…"
Gibbs shook his head. "No, I don't. He's trying to close himself off and I'm not about to let that happen."
The team leader poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down on his couch, contemplating the latest confrontation between him and DiNozzo. Although he wouldn't admit it to anyone, the sight of Tony sitting on his bathroom floor with such anger and desperation surrounding him was not a memory that he would cherish. He had been walking past the bathroom and had heard a muffled cry of frustration and the sound of Tony hitting something. Gibbs had listened for a few seconds before deciding he needed to intervene and when he did, his presence had not been welcome.
He still wasn't sure why he had been so hard on Tony, but he knew that his friend needed a push and he was the one who could deliver it. It had always bothered the younger man when the team leader was 'nice' to him; Gibbs truly hoped that hadn't changed during Tony's time in prison. Now that the charges against Tony had been expunged; it was time to concentrate on getting DiNozzo back on his feet. He knew that the younger man was anxious to get out from under his watchful eye and he couldn't blame Tony for that. The past year, his former agent had been subjected to having his every move scrutinized and for a man like Tony, that had to have been pure hell.
DiNozzo used to make a practice of knowing everything about everyone's life, but when it came to his own personal affairs, he kept them closely guarded. During the trial, the prosecuting attorney had purposefully drudged up DiNozzo's past and had destroyed his reputation to the point that even those who knew Tony began to doubt his innocence. Tony needed to feel normal again and if Gibbs had to growl and occasionally act like a bastard to help him, then he would.
Their relationship had always been unique and complicated. Most people didn't understand the loyalty between the two men and there were times that Gibbs was baffled by the fact that Tony had chosen him as his paternal figure in his life. He never understood why DiNozzo's own father couldn't see what a good man his son was. It had taken him years to build Tony's confidence in himself and that confidence had been destroyed during his time in prison. The road ahead of them was long, but hopefully Tony would permit the Marine to come along on the journey.
Gibbs was preparing to take another sip of his coffee when he heard Ducky ask, "Anthony, what do you think you're doing?"
The ME's distressed tone told Gibbs that his first little push had been successful. He looked up to see DiNozzo hobbling down the hall, occasionally using the wall to keep his balance. Gibbs immediately noticed that Tony wasn't using his crutches nor did he have a cast on his wrist, prompting him to wonder if he had perhaps pushed a bit too hard.
It didn't escape the older agent's attention that Tony had yet to answer Ducky's question; he was clearly concentrating on every step until he reached the chair and collapsed into it. Gibbs rose up and carefully propped Tony's leg up on the table and then went to the kitchen to retrieve a bag of frozen peas to put on his knee.
"Thanks, Gibbs," Tony said as he settled back into the cushion, placing the bag on knee..
"Works better than ice packs. Only reason I keep peas around here."
"Yeah."
"Feel like some soup or something?" he wanted to know.
"Not really."
"You need to try and get something on your stomach."
"Soup's fine," the younger man relented as he sank down into the cushion.
Gibbs went to the kitchen and began fixing DiNozzo a small bowl of soup. He could hear Ducky gently chastising Tony about not using his crutches. The Marine wondered how long it would take the ME to notice that DiNozzo didn't have his cast on either.
As he brought out the soup and bottle of clear soda, there was a knock at the door. Knowing that no one should be dropping by, Gibbs handed the bowl and drink to Tony and went to see who was at the door. He almost expected there to be a reporter on his front porch; surely the press wouldn't be so dense as to continue to harass his former agent.
He opened the door to discover Jenny standing there, preparing to knock once again. Very few people ever knocked on his door and as far as he could remember, Jenny had always been one to come in whether she had been invited or not. "I didn't want to barge in unannounced," she offered by way of explanation. "I didn't think it was a good idea since Tony was staying here with you."
Gibbs stepped out and pulled the door closed behind him. "What are you doing here, Director?"
"I would like to talk to Tony."
The agent couldn't help but laugh at her request. "That's not happening, Jen. He's not ready."
"Judging from the way he handled the press, I think he can stand my presence for a few minutes," she shot back. "His rather colorful language sent the censor machine into overload."
Gibbs should have figured that the media would have already managed to get something on air. "They deserved what they got."
"I agree."
"Then you have to know that he's not ready to talk to you or to anyone from NCIS."
Jenny crossed her arms and glared at him. Gibbs knew that look all too well; she had no intention of backing down and would stand her ground until she got what she wanted. Of course, he was equally determined to allow Tony to decide who he wanted to see; DiNozzo deserved to be able to make his own decisions.
"I won't be long," Jenny promised.
"It's going to be up to DiNozzo. If he doesn't want to see you, then you have to leave."
"Fine. Now, go and ask him."
He opened his door and with a firm, "Wait here," Gibbs went back into the house. Tony had just finished half his sandwich when the team leader approached him. "Tony?" he called out.
"Who is it?" Tony asked.
"Director Shepard. If you don't want to see her, she'll leave," he quickly added.
Tony sat the bowl down and closed his eyes. Gibbs considered his reluctance to serve as DiNozzo's answer, until the dark haired man spoke up and said that he would see her. The team leader had to admit that he was taken by surprise by Tony's actions, but it was DiNozzo's decision and Gibbs would abide by it. As he walked back to the door, he couldn't shake the feeling that the next few minutes were going to be very interesting.