First, a shout out to my awesome beta, AZGirl…any remaining mistakes are mine. Second, my humblest apologies for the lengthy delays in continuing this story. No real excuses except the daily demands of real life, which I know many of you are familiar with. Thank you to those who are still sticking with me and I promise that the story will be finished. I am blessed to have so many loyal readers…you truly keep me wanting to write. Hope you enjoy the post!
Part 24
Tony wanted nothing more than to be left alone, but apparently, that wasn't going to happen any time soon. The team leader was determined to discover exactly what was going on in his head and he knew from experience that Gibbs wouldn't give up until he had the answers that he wanted. He couldn't stand the thought of anyone getting a glimpse at the dark thoughts that he harbored; Tony had always managed to control those thoughts, but over the past year, they had started to consume him.
He was a psychiatrist's dream or their worst nightmare. The younger man had always had a way with department and hospital shrinks; his false assurances that he was fine used to eloquently flow from his lips. Over the years, he had become a master of deception and while it wasn't necessarily a mark of integrity, that particular skill had saved his life more than once during his combined years on the various police forces and at NCIS. Unfortunately, Gibbs seemingly knew him better than he knew himself; the older man could see right through his façade and the lies he would tell in order to keep his mask firmly in place.
Of course, he really had no idea who he was anymore; his past year in prison had changed him and not for the better. Self-preservation had been and still was Tony's main priority; he did what he'd had to do in order to stay alive and he supposed that was what pissed him off about Gibbs' demand to know if he was going to do something stupid. He could have died several times this past year, but he had chosen to fight and although that decision had come with a high price, Tony had willingly paid it time and time again.
He glanced down at his hands and noticed a slight tremor, prompting him to clasp his hands together, hoping that Gibbs hadn't noticed his shakiness. Blowing out a frustrated breath, Tony met his former mentor's icy gaze. "What was your question again, Gibbs? Am I going to do something stupid? Was that it?"
"That's what I want to know, DiNozzo," the Marine replied. "And don't give me the run around. I want the truth."
"The truth?" Tony challenged. "You really want me to answer that? Thought you knew me better."
He had once told Gibbs that he couldn't imagine ever being desperate enough to take his own life, especially after having to endure the aftermath of his mother's suicide. Tony could vividly recall the sight of his mother's lifeless body, mentally scarring him forever; no eight year old should ever have to deal with losing a mom in such an unexpected and cruel manner. She had been his world and she had left him; truthfully, he had never truly forgiven her for leaving him alone. However, during this time, Tony had made the decision that he would never intentionally take his own life and the thought had never crossed his mind until he had been sent to prison. Although he had considered suicide as a viable option, he had never acted upon that particular solution to end his pain.
Even after the hell that he had endured at the hands of the other inmates and guards, he had refused to give in to the desire to end his life. One time his attackers had made it seem that he had attempted to kill himself, and although the doctor had probably listed it that way in his record, Tony knew the truth; he had stayed strong and true to the vow he had made to himself.
"I'd like to think I know the answer," Gibbs said. "I guess I just want to hear from you."
"Why? You know better than anyone why I wouldn't do it."
Tony knew that Gibbs had to remember the conversation that had taken place not long after he had started working for NCIS. A tough case and a few glasses of bourbon had loosened his lips and he had told the team leader of the heartache and pain of finding his mother dead. Neither of them ever mentioned that particular discussion again, both men preferring to keep the past in the past.
"That was before…"
He didn't give the Marine an opportunity to finish his sentence. What was Gibbs trying to do to him? Piss him off even more? Force him to talk? Break him into tiny pieces that couldn't be put back together? Tony's anger was palpable as he threw off the afghan and shakily rose to his feet, bumping the table and knocking a cup to the floor.
"Before what? Before I spent time in prison? I may have thought about it, but that's all I did! Damn it, Gibbs! What the hell do you want from me?"
Gibbs stood to his full height, which only fueled the rage burning inside of him. Deep down, he knew that the team leader was taking precautions because of the fact that he was probably going to end up face planting on the floor, but at the moment, Tony perceived the movement as a threat, which only exacerbated his defensiveness.
"I want you to be honest with me and with yourself," Gibbs demanded. "Talk to me, Tony."
He laughed bitterly. "Did you get a degree in psychiatry while I was away? Let me just go ahead and make it clear to you and everybody else that I don't need a shrink!"
"I didn't say you did," the agent countered. "I just want to help you and I don't know how."
Tony shook his head as he limped towards the front door. "You want to help? Then leave me alone!"
He tensed as Gibbs' calloused hand grabbed his arm. Tony knew that he wasn't strong enough to fight the agent, but that didn't stop him from trying to pull free of the Marine's tight grasp.
"Let me go, Gibbs," he seethed. Clenching his fist, he fought against the urge to throw a punch at his friend; it would serve the silver haired man right for baiting him, but yet he couldn't bring himself to do it.
"No, Tony." Gibbs released his arm and moved to stand in front of him. "You've got to stop hiding and face…"
"Face what? Face what happened?" Tony raked his hands through his hair, frustrated by the direction that their conversation was now taking. "I have faced it Gibbs. I have to live with the memories of that f***ing nightmare every day! You've read the reports and you know what happened! You know about the beatings and you know about the…other stuff that happened; so tell me why we're even having this conversation! Why do you think that you need to act like my shrink? There are enough voices in my head without you making me…"
He swallowed hard. What was the matter with him? One moment, he felt like punching his way through a brick wall and the next moment, he was fighting back tears. Why couldn't he stay in control of his feelings? He had spent his entire life learning to hide his emotions and now, they were struggling to break through the fortress that he had built around them. He couldn't afford to appear weak, but right now, that was exactly what he was.
Sinking to the floor, ignoring the stabbing pain in his still healing knee, he cradled his aching head in his hands. He sensed Gibbs' presence as the Marine knelt in front of him. "Why can't you just leave it alone, Gibbs? Why can't you leave me alone?"
"I don't know," Gibbs admitted. "I just can't."
"That's not a reason."
"It's the only one I have."
Tony wasn't sure what he wanted Gibbs to say. At one time, he and the agent had shared a familial bond, but now, he wasn't so sure that it still existed. He had always valued the team leader's opinion and had constantly sought his approval. His time in prison had taught him that he could live without it, but at the same time, he was slowly rediscovering that he still wanted it. Tony felt that he didn't deserve the agent's unconditional support and it was foolish to expect things to go back to like they were before. Who could be proud of a son who had spent the last year in prison?
"Yeah, well, your reasoning sucks," Tony growled. "Don't you see? I…I have to do this on my own."
Gibbs sat down beside him and to his own surprise, Tony didn't mind the close proximity of the other man; either that, or he was simply too tired to care. "That's where you're wrong. Like I said when you had your ass planted on my bathroom floor, you need help and there's no shame in it, DiNozzo. It's okay to ask for help."
"I tried that once or twice and it didn't work out too well. Nobody wants to help a dirty cop." He leaned his head against the wall and momentarily closed his eyes. When he finally met Gibbs' concerned gaze, he didn't see pity in his former mentor's eyes, but determination and an obvious desire to understand what was going through his head. The only problem was that he didn't have a clue what was going on in his jumbled mind. "Anyway, I kind of got used to being on my own; there wasn't anyone in prison I could count on to have my back. Half of them wanted to stab me in the back and the other half…"
Tony caught himself; the last thing he wanted to do was to bring up any of the horrific memories that he was doing his best to bury. If he was ever going to move on, he was going to have to try and figure out how to find a room big enough in the depths of his mind to hide the horrific images and thoughts that tended to haunt him at the most inopportune moments.
"It doesn't matter," he sighed, hoping that Gibbs wouldn't push him to talk anymore about his time in prison. As far as he was concerned, that time of his life was off limits. "Anyway, to answer your first question, I'm not going to kill myself. Thought about it a time or two, but I won't go through with it."
"I know. I shouldn't have even asked."
A tiny smile escaped Tony's lips. Gibbs was coming close to breaking one of his own rules. "That an apology, Boss?"
"Closest thing to one that I can muster right now," the agent shot back.
Tony shifted slightly and rubbed his aching knee. "Been a hell of day, Boss."
"You can say that again. Between court, the press, and Jenny, you've had a lot to deal with."
He shrugged, wincing slightly at the movement. He wished he would stop hurting; the constant, nagging pain was definitely clouding his ability to think clearly; his thoughts were all over the place and it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay focused.
"I guess so. Kind of weird seeing the Director. Figure she's up to something."
"You're probably right," Gibbs conceded. "Your instincts usually are."
"I don't know about that; thought maybe I was just being paranoid. In case you haven't noticed, I have some trust issues."
"Yeah, I noticed. Not your fault."
Once again, Tony had the feeling that Gibbs was waiting for him to reveal his most private thoughts, and once again, he found himself unable to reveal anything that would make him appear vulnerable. He decided that it was time to employ his favorite diversion tactic and change the subject.
"You said that you kept some of my things; I'd like to go through them and see what I have left. Maybe I still have some things I can pawn and get some money."
"You don't have to do that, Tony," Gibbs insisted.
"I've got a lot of things to do, Gibbs, and I'm going to need money. I can't sit around and wait for that supposed back pay to appear."
"Tony, take a couple of days and regroup. Like you said, it's been a hell of a day. Actually, it's been a hell of year."
The younger man visibly bristled; he was exhausted and his nerves were beyond frayed. "Gibbs, I really don't have the energy to get into this right now. I just need to do this. Now, you can show me where you put my stuff or I'll look for it on my own."
"All right, but how about we compromise? Take your meds and get a good night's sleep tonight and in the morning, I'll help you go through your stuff."
He closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands as the fatigue that plagued him seeped into every fiber of his weary soul. "I'm so tired," he mumbled to himself, almost forgetting that Gibbs was still sitting beside him.
"I know you are," the team leader assured him. "Let's get you off the floor and back to the couch."
Tony realized that Gibbs knew he wasn't just talking about being physically spent, but emotionally as well. The Marine had temporarily given up on getting him to talk, which was a good thing since he wasn't sure what would fly out of his mouth. The one thing that he was sure of was that the floor was not where he wanted to spend the night, but he was beginning to doubt that he could summon the strength to stand. "I'm not sure I can move. You can just throw a blanket over me."
He eyed Gibbs as the older man slowly stood up, ignoring the pain in his own knee, and offered him a hand. Reluctantly, he reached up and took the proffered hand, allowing the Marine to help him up. Tony leaned on Gibbs as they slowly made their way back to the couch. As he situated himself, Gibbs slipped into the kitchen and returned with his meds and a can of soda. "Take these," he quietly demanded. "They'll help your pain so you sleep."
Tony started to protest but thought twice. He actually wanted to sleep, and by drugging himself into oblivion, he could ensure that the nightmares wouldn't come immediately, allowing him to get a couple hours of rest. He didn't like taking any kind of medicinal help, but tonight, he was going to make an exception; he was definitely going to need his strength the next few days. "Thanks," he replied as he took the pills. Tony swallowed them and then settled into the cushions, pulling the blanket over him.
"Rest easy, DiNozzo."
As Tony closed his eyes, he managed to mutter a jumbled, "You too, Boss."
He only hoped that when he woke up that he had the energy to go through his belongings. Tony was determined to get his own place and then he could decide what he was going to do with the rest of his life. Of course, he was going to have to convince Gibbs to let him go, which he knew would be easier said than done.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The next morning, Gibbs woke up realizing that he had actually slept for six hours; he found himself hoping that Tony had managed to do so as well. He knew that DiNozzo usually only managed to sleep a couple hours at a time and the fact that Tony had slept so long was a testament to the younger man's obvious exhaustion. Throwing the covers off, he quietly made his way into the living room to discover Tony wasn't on the couch, but sitting at his kitchen table drinking coffee.
"How long you been awake, DiNozzo?" he asked as he grabbed a cup and poured himself some of the steaming brew.
"About half an hour," he replied.
"Did you have another nightmare?"
"If I did, I don't remember it. I had to hit the head," he sheepishly informed him. "Figured since I was awake, I'd start the coffee."
He wasn't sure if Tony was being completely honest with him regarding his nightmares, but Gibbs decided that he wouldn't push the younger man. The dark circles underneath DiNozzo's eyes were still very prominent, but in time, they would fade-at least he hoped they would. It was more than obvious that a few hours of sleep wasn't going to be an instant fix to the mental and physical fatigue that plagued Tony, but it certainly wouldn't hurt him. Gibbs just wondered if the younger man would ever be able to sleep without any kind of medication; the thought of DiNozzo having to depend on medicinal relief was something that he really didn't want to consider. Hopefully, they wouldn't have to cross that bridge.
"Want anything to eat?" Gibbs offered.
"I had a piece of toast; I'm not very hungry."
Gibbs sat down beside him. Cradling his cup in his calloused hands, he studied its contents, unsure of what to say; he had to tread carefully or they would be back at square one again. "Still want to go through your stuff?" he finally inquired.
"Yeah. If you don't mind," Tony quietly added.
"I'll bring it in to you."
"No. I can get around well enough to pilfer through a few boxes."
His first instinct was to insist that Tony permit him to bring the boxes to him, but he also knew that he had to let DiNozzo feel like he had some control. "All right," he conceded. "Just promise me you won't over do it."
"I won't. I don't particularly want to incur the wrath of Ducky," Tony grinned as he finished his cup of coffee.
The team leader quietly enjoyed catching a glimpse of Tony's personality that had been hidden by the scars that he had earned this past year. He wasn't sure he should be concerned or grateful that Tony appeared to be in a better mood this morning. DiNozzo's mood swings were frequent, and it was that lack of control that frustrated his former agent, so Gibbs decided to simply enjoy the moment and not rock the proverbial boat.
"I stored what I could in the spare bedroom," Gibbs said. "Want company?"
Tony shrugged as he slowly got to his feet, using the table to gain his balance. "Suit yourself."
Gibbs figured that was the closest thing he would get to a yes, so he stood as well, making sure he stayed nearby in case Tony faltered. He was determined to allow DiNozzo to do what he could for himself, even if it was sometimes against his better judgment. He followed the younger man as he used the wall for support until he came to the door of the room. The team leader noticed the light sheen of perspiration on Tony's forehead and his slightly labored breathing; he wondered if this was too much, too soon, but Gibbs was not about to let DiNozzo see his doubt.
He opened the door and gestured for Tony to go in. Gibbs gestured to the bed and said, "Sit. I'll bring the boxes to you."
The fact that Tony didn't protest only served as a testament to the amount of pain that Tony was still experiencing. "I hung your suits up in the closet; figured that I couldn't afford to replace them if something happened to them," he teased.
He noticed that Tony was staring past him at his suits. The younger man carefully stood up and slowly hobbled over to the closet door. Gibbs watched with interest as DiNozzo fingered the expensive suit jackets; he then moved to the shirts that were still semi-wrinkle free and repeated the action. The team leader knew that Tony used to don one of his designer suits when his guard was up and he wanted to keep some emotional distance between him and his coworkers. His choice of suit would invariably start a conversation filled with snarky remarks from his teammates, which Tony endured in order to effectively disguise the burden that he was carrying that particular day.
"You okay?" he quietly asked the contemplative man.
"Get rid of them," Tony blurted out.
Gibbs stared at DiNozzo in disbelief. Certain that he had misheard Tony's directive, he asked Tony to repeat what he had just said. "What?"
"Get rid of them."
"What? I don't understand."
Tony slammed the closet door and clumsily made his way back to the bed while muttering a string of curses under his breath. He knew to expect severe mood swings from Tony, but Gibbs surely didn't expect one to come from looking at his suits. There was a time that he could read DiNozzo like a book, but right now he had no idea what was driving the younger man. "Tony? Why do you want to get rid of them?" the older man pressed.
"I just don't want them anymore," Tony growled. "I don't have the right to wear them."
Gibbs was truly confused by DiNozzo's words. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Are you gonna bring me a box or what?"
It was obvious that Tony was shutting down again, but Gibbs wasn't about to let that happen. "In a minute. I want you to give me an answer."
"I don't have an answer; I just don't want them anymore."
"That's not a reason," he shot back. "Those suits are worth…"
"Nothing!" DiNozzo roared. "They were just something I could hide behind; something that made me feel worthy of everyone's attention. Well, here's a news flash, Gibbs! I don't want the attention! I don't want those clothes! I'm not good enough to wear them anymore and I don't want to be reminded of that every time I look in the freakin' closet! Is that okay with you? I told you that I was going to have to do this alone, and this is part of what I have to do!"
Gibbs grabbed Tony by the shoulders, forcing the angry man to look at him. "And I told you that you weren't alone in this. You keep trying to push me away, but let me tell you something, DiNozzo; I'm not going anywhere."
Tony pulled free of his grasp and shakily sat on the bed, clenching and unclenching his hands; Gibbs supposed he should be grateful that he wasn't on the receiving end of DiNozzo's fists. What had he been thinking? He knew better than to back Tony into a corner; the former agent didn't like anyone to invade his space without an invitation and Gibbs certainly hadn't been invited. Sitting down beside Tony, he clasped his hands together and stared at the floor.
"I'm sorry, Tony; I had no right to…"
Pushing himself up off the bed, Tony limped towards the door. "You're damn right, you didn't."
The Marine called out to him, but DiNozzo refused to answer him. Gibbs listened to Tony's uneven gait as the angry young man made his way down the stairs. He wasn't sure as to why he hadn't followed DiNozzo, but the sound of the front door opening and then slamming shut forced him to realize that his delayed reaction could prove to be a mistake.
A sense of dread filled the older agent; Gibbs knew that he had messed up and that he had to fix his mistake. The only problem was that he really had no idea where to start. He was used to being the one with the answers and now, he didn't have a clue as to what to do. Tough love didn't seem to be working and neither was trying to be patient and understanding. One thing he knew for certain was that Tony wasn't going to get far on a bum knee. Grabbing his keys, he headed out the door to catch up to DiNozzo. He would figure out how to approach Tony and convince his friend that he was definitely worth the effort.