Tony was in pain, his head was throbbing. Gibbs had taken pity on him and sent him home. Especially after his had gotten sick and had thrown up and had almost passed out twice. Gibbs had driven Tony home personally, in Tony’s car, and had had Tim pick him up at Tony’s apartment, so Tony would have his car when he needed it. At any rate, Tony knew he must have looked terrible to get sympathetic looks from both Tim and Ziva.

Tony had just gotten home and changed into a pair of sweats and a comfortable worn t-shirt. He had planned on getting in bed and sleeping for a week. Just as Tony crawled into bed, someone knocked at his door. The knocks sounded hard enough to break his door down. He pulled out his gun and made his way, slowly toward the sounds. The throbbing in his head in time with the pounding.

“Dad?!” Tony said, shocked as he opened the door. He stepped aside and hid the gun behind his back, but not before Senior saw it.

“That how you treat company?” Senior said, looking at his son with an appraising eye.

“Only those who try to break my door down.” Tony said wearily, dropping onto the couch and laying the gun on the table beside him.

Senior appraised him again, not saying anything, and then sat down.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Tony asked.

“Can’t I just drop in and see my son?” Senior asked.

Tony’s answer was muffled, his head in his hands. “You could, but you don’t.”

“You’re right, Junior. I do need something. You know that money….”

“There is no more. I told you that. I have to live too, Dad. I have rent, utilities, things like that. I can’t live on the street because I wind up giving all my money to you.” Tony said, his head throbbing more with each passing minute.

“You’re working….” Senior started.

“Yes.” Tony nodded. “I am. I am working to support me. I can’t afford to support you, too.” Tony paused. “What happened to all those business ventures you had going?”

“That’s the problem. They all went south. I don’t need you to support me. I just need to pay back investors.” Senior explained.

“I can give you a couple hundred.” Tony said. He stood and headed to his bedroom to get his check book.

“Couple hundred, Junior, I am into these people for thousands! A couple hundred dollars is just a drop in the bucket.” Senior said following him.

Tony opened his safe. It was a small one. The kind you keep under the bed or in the closet pushed back into a corner. Tony tried to open and close it before his father could see inside. His mother had been buying savings bonds and stocks in Tony’s name since the day he was born. She had also left him a great deal of money in a trust fund that by now, contained close to half a million dollars. He had been using the money from the stock dividends and had been cashing in bonds one by one as they matured, but he still had many more to cash in. His dad had no idea his mother had planned ahead for him like that. And when she died, everything got transferred into his name and was held in a trust until he turned 21.

“What’s this?” Senior said, reaching in before Tony could close the box and pulling out a bond. “What the HELL is this?”

Tony stepped back, thinking Senior was going to hit him. Senior took that moment to dump the contents of the box out onto Tony’s bed. There had to be 30 savings bonds and stock certificates. Then he spied the bank book. He opened it up and read the amounts it contained.

“You have that much money and you are only going to give me a few hundred!” Senior said advancing on his son. Tony’s head was throbbing more than ever he tried to take evasive measures and he moved out of range of his father. He remembered the gun. He would not use it on his father, but he felt more comfortable just having it close. “You BASTARD! That is MY money, that BITCH gave you MY money!”

Tony moved out of the bedroom and into the living room again. He spotted the gun and picked it up planning to put it in a drawer in the table it was lying on. “Mom gave me that money so I could go to college. She wanted me to be able to have a good life.”

“No, the thieving bitch stole from ME. It’s mine!” Senior said. He had followed Tony back out of the bedroom.

“No, it’s not.” Tony said, this conversation was intensifying his migraine and he was having difficulties thinking straight. “She wanted me….”

“She wanted you to have all the money I had worked so hard for!” Senior emphasized, pointing to himself. “You have no right to it!”

“Dad, I….” Tony said, standing there with the gun in his hand.

“You were going to shoot me.” Senior stated, seeing the gun in Junior’s hand for the first time.

Tony shook his head, vigorously, though it increased the pain in his head tenfold.

“Yes, you were, you were going to shoot me. You would probably get away with it, too. All you cops stick together. You would claim I came into your apartment raving like a lunatic. It would be self-defense. That’s what they call it, right?”

Tony shook his head again. “…just putting it away.” Tony said. He was barely able to speak for the pain. He went back into the bedroom, and Senior followed. Tony usually kept the gun in his bedside table or locked in the other smaller safe he actually had under his bed.

Senior advanced on his son, the gun still in Tony’s hand. There was a brief struggle. Seconds later Tony gasped and then fell back onto the bed unconscious, a red stain spreading across the front of his gray t-shirt.

Senior stood over his son for just a moment. He realized he had the gun in his hand and dropped it to the floor beside the bed. HE had SHOT his son. He put his hand over his mouth and managed to suppress the urge to vomit, even as the bile rose in his throat. Senior sat down beside his son on the bed. Tony was lying flat on his back with his legs, bent at the knees, dangling off the side. Senior touched his son’s face. He got no response. He spotted Tony’s phone on his bedside table and grabbed it. He ran into the bathroom as he dialed. He got two towels.

“Yes, 9-1-1!” Senior said as soon as someone answered. “My son! I shot my son! Help him please!” Senior said. He started to cry. “I shot my son!” Senior said as he ran back to the bed. He then folded up the towels and pressed them to Tony’s wound.

“I’m sorry, Son. I’m sorry, Tony. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I am so sorry.” Senior said, crying so hard his tears were blocking his vision.


Gibbs and his team arrived just minutes after the ambulance containing Tony pulled away from the curb in front of Tony’s apartment building. Gibbs breaking every speeding limit along the way. Gibbs had been notified by the local LEOs as soon as the call had come into the 9-1-1 call center. The Local LEO’s arrived at the scene. They secured the scene and had not allowed Senior to leave. Team Gibbs headed up to Tony’s apartment. Senior was standing in the middle of the room in a daze. His hands were bloody and the towels he had used to stop the flow of blood were lying on the bed. Also on the bed, forgotten for the moment, were the stocks, bonds, and bank book still lying where Senior had dumped them out.

“He’s going to be OK.” Senior said seeming to be talking to no one in particular. “He has got to be OK.”

Gibbs was not even sure Senior even knew they were in the room with him. “Mr. DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked, approaching him with caution. He saw Tony’s gun lying at Senior’s feet. “Mr. DiNozzo!” Gibb repeated, this time with authority.

Senior’s head snapped up. He looked around the room. “Junior? Where’s Tony?” He wiped his eyes.

“He’s on his way to the hospital, Mr. DiNozzo.” Gibbs said. “What happened here?”

“The gun, he had the gun in his hand.”

“He shot himself?” Gibbs said, not believing he was even asking the question.

Senior shook his head. “We…I don’t know what happened. We’re talking one minute. The next minute he’s lying on the bed, bleeding. I don’t know.” Senior said again.

“Did you shoot your son, Mr. DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked. He was angry, angrier than he had been in a long time.

Senior nodded. “I think maybe I did.” Senior acknowledged, wiping his eyes again. “He was lying on the bed. The gun…the gun was in my hand.” Senior suddenly put his hand over his mouth and ran into Tony’s bathroom. Gibb and the team heard retching and then they heard the toilet flush and water running in the sink. Senior reappeared moments later.

“I need to be with my son.” Senior said, walking toward the bedroom door.

Tim stopped him. “I’m sorry, Sir. That will not be possible. You are under arrest for the attempted murder of a federal agent.” Tim said, cuffing Senior and heading him out of the bed room and into the living room. He read Senior his rights as he was cuffed.

“WHAT! It was an accident! I wouldn’t hurt him on purpose!” Senior pleaded. “I would not hurt him on purpose!”

The local LEOs took custody of Senior as Team Gibbs processed the scene. The bagged the gun, the towels, the stock and bonds and the comforter.

“Looks pretty clean cut, Boss.” Abby said after she had phoned Gibbs. She had hurried up to process the evidence so she could get to the hospital to be with Tony. “Tony’s blood is on the both towels, the bedspread and even on some of the stock and bonds.” Abby paused. “I almost forgot. The gun, Tony’s and Senior’s prints were on it. Tony had a lot of money here. The bank book said $485,000. The bonds, once they mature, could be worth over a million, easy. The stocks, well, Mama DiNozzo did very well by her son. She got him in on the ground floor of some great companies. There could be a couple mil there, too.”

“That bastard.” Gibbs said, barely audible.

“What!” Abby asked.

“That bastard.” Gibbs repeated, louder this time. “That bastard wanted the money. He was willing to kill Tony for the money.” Gibbs said, barely controlling his anger.

“GIBBS!” Abby said. “Tony….”

“I will take care of Tony.” Gibbs vowed. “You…I will be there shortly”

Gibbs arrived in Abby’s lab within the hour. “I’ll take Tony’s stocks and bonds and his bank book. I’ll open up a safe deposit box for him. I’ll keep a key. Ducky will hold Tony’s key until he gets better. Since both keys will be needed to open the box, there is no way Senior will get his hands on Tony’s money.”

Abby smiled and gave Gibbs the evidence bag contained the requested items. “Am I dismissed?” Abby asked, assuming a military pose.

“You are dismissed.” Gibbs said leaning over and kissing her cheek. Abby got her coat and purse and hurried off to the hospital.


Gibbs wanted, badly, to leave NCIS and to be at Tony’s bedside, but he had one more thing he must do first.

Gibbs walked into the room and closed the door. He thought he had his emotions in check until he saw Mr. DiNozzo sitting in the interrogation room. He looked very put together, very smug.

“Mr. DiNozzo, that was a good show you put on for us back at Tony’s apartment. The retching was a nice little extra added touch.” Gibbs was barely able to hide his contempt.

“I am not understanding you, Agent Gibbs.” Mr. DiNozzo said, studying Gibbs expression.

“Your show of concern, Mr. DiNozzo. It was almost…touching, almost.” Gibbs explained, as he pacing around the room, trying to get a handle on his emotions.

“My relationship with my son is….”

Gibbs smiled, but it was humorless. He put both his hands down on the table and leaned in close to Senior from the other side. “YOUR relationship with your son is laughable. I care more for him than you do. I wouldn’t try to kill him for money.”

“I didn’t…” Senior said as he watched Gibbs straighten up and start to pace the room again.

“Tony said you were after money. You had been after him for months to give you money. He said you were going through it like you had a never ending supply.” Gibbs paused. “He said. He was going to have to cut you off. He couldn’t afford to support you anymore.”

Senior stood up. “That BASTARD hid money from me. And that bitch…that Bitch I was married to stole MY money…MY MONEY and gave it to that little whelp!”

Gibbs wanted to jump across the table and choke Senior. “SIT DOWN.”

Senior sat almost immediately.

Gibbs glared at Senior, but stopped in his tracks and took a few deep breaths before continuing. “Your son is fighting for his life. He’s literally fighting for his life right now and ALL you can do is talk about his money!”

“IT’S MY MONEY! He had no right telling you ANYTHING about it.” Senior said.

Gibbs put both hands on the table between then and leaned in. “That’s where you are wrong. I care more about YOUR son than YOU ever will. And, by the way, Tony’s money is secure. YOU will never get your hands on it. It is now in a safe deposit box.” Gibbs smiled, happy that Senior was realizing the implications of what he was saying. “The box can only be opened by two keys. I have one….”

Senior glared at Gibbs. “You have no right….”

“I have every right. I will not let you take advantage of him. Not if I can prevent it.” Gibbs began to pace again. “For some unknown reason, he still loves you. He wants your approval. He knows he will never get it, but he still tries.” Gibbs sighed. “He still tries to get you to love him.”

“I love my son.” Senior stated.

“What is the hole in his chest? Proof?” Gibbs sat down in the chair.

“YOU BASTARD! I don’t have to explain a damn thing to you!”

“Well, Mr. DiNozzo, I know you realize this conversation was taped. Do you really think any jury who hears this tape will believe that you are innocent? You DIDN’T try to kill your son?” Gibbs smiled again. “Hell, we add the video tape of this, we could probably get you put away for life.”

Gibbs turned and looked at the two-way glass. “He’s all yours.”

Tobias met Gibbs out in the hall as Anthony Senior was being lead out of the building. “You know I had to pull a few strings to classify this as FBI territory.”

Gibbs nodded. “He deserves to be investigated by you guys too. Maybe you can arrest him for tax evasion while you’re at it.”

Gibbs and Tobias smiled as they walked down the hall together.

“Tony is a good kid. How the hell did he end up with something like that as a father?” Tobias commented.

Gibbs shrugged. “It’s true what they say. Bad things happen to good people.”

“Don’t start quoting clichés to me, Jethro. I can’t take it.” Fornell said. “Take good care of your boy.”

Gibbs nodded his head and left Tobias. He hoped he would get to the hospital before Tony got out of surgery.

Gibbs exited the elevator on the surgical floor to see Abby pacing back and forth.

“He’s been in surgery too long, Gibbs. Four hours. That’s way too long isn’t it? I mean I know he was shot, but it shouldn’t take that long. It just shouldn’t take that long.” Abby said pacing and ringing her hands.

“He’s in good hands, Abby. They want to make sure they don’t miss anything that’s all. He’ll be fine.” Gibbs said as much for himself as for her. He then noticed Ziva and Tim in the room also, the worry on their faces matching Abby’s. “This IS Tony we’re talking about.”

Ducky showed up about that time. He had been back speaking to the nurses and doctors in recovery. “Young Anthony was just placed in the recovery room. He is doing very well. He didn’t have any complications in surgery and he’s resting. The blood loss was minimal.” Ducky said his relief visible. “He will be just fine.”

“Daddy DiNozzo is a VERY lucky man.” Gibbs said, seething, under his breath.

THE END

I will leave it to your imagination as to what Gibbs would do to Senior if Junior had not survived.