The very first time Jethro Gibbs ever heard the surname 'DiNozzo' was during an extended leave period while vacationing with fellow Marine and best friend Michael Johnson at the Johnson family's isolated cabin along the shore of Great Neck Bay. It was also during this time that Gibbs' life, though he wouldn't be aware of it until much later, was placed on a course leading to great love and even greater sorrow.

The two young Marines thoroughly enjoyed their first three days of rest and relaxation: long mornings lolling among the pillows and down comforter on the king-sized bed, lazy afternoons boating the pristine waters of the Bay, or playing slow, challenging games of chess in front of the large, stone fireplace. They found a multitude of activities to keep them amused but nothing pleased them more than sitting on the private dock each night, under the glittering blanket of stars, and consuming bottles of good, cold ale until they both were stupidly drunk.

Their much-respected uniforms were hanging in the entry closet by the front door as they opted for more appropriate gear, allowing the strong bodies to enjoy the sun and water to the fullest: shorts replacing the stiff, starched pants over legs use to exercise, soft cotton t-shirts covering broad shoulders familiar with heavy packs and weapons, and sneakers protecting feet usually confined within high-laced, supportive boots.

To Gibbs, the cabin and the surrounding Bay were like a small slice of heaven. Little did he know he and Mike were about to be swept into a nasty piece of hell.

On the fifth morning of their leave, while still abed, Mike's sister phoned from her home in New York City, rousing the men from slumber. Her voice brought Mike immediately awake, the tone and timbre of her usually sweet sounds chilling him terribly and forcing him to sit abruptly up, the sheet slipping to pool in his lap. Beside him, Jethro stirred and focused on his friend, seeing the worry on the face and the anger in the warm, brown eyes. He laid a comforting hand on Mike's leg but wasn't surprised when the man moved away and rose from the bedding, standing naked in the early morning sun pouring through the wide window.

Jethro rolled over to watch him closely. This wasn't a snub. He recognized it for what it was: when Mike was processing information he needed his space, be it emotionally or physically. So, Jethro was content to lay on the soft mattress and bide his time, knowing Mike would return when ready. It gave him a moment to admire his partner's lean, strong body at leisure, his eyes drifting from one point of interest to another.

When Mike moved back to the bed and tossed the phone to the nightstand, Jethro sat up and waited to find out what was happening. Mike's face was strained and solemn, a deep frown line marring his forehead. He eased back onto the mattress and sat staring at Jethro, reaching to run a hand over the broad chest and then melting into the offered strong embrace.

"I'm sorry, Jeth," he whispered against the smooth skin. "I don't know what's going on but if Candace is this upset, it must be bad. She and Jimmy are going to drive up this afternoon so we can hash this out. I'm so sorry."

"Hell, Mike." Jethro placed a brief kiss to the man's forehead, shifting their bodies into better contact, "nothing can mess up this leave. Trust me."

Shortly after two o'clock, Candace and James DiNozzo were pulling their green SUV up the rocky drive toward the cabin. Jethro remained on the front porch, leaning casually against a rough post, watching as Mike walked the short path to where they were parking and sweeping his sister into a brief embrace when she exited the vehicle. They moved to the front of the Jeep as Jimmy joined them and Mike extended a hand to his brother-in-law in greeting. The trio remained by the front of the SUV for several minutes, conversing, but Jethro was too far away to hear what was being said. He could tell by his posture that Mike was, once again, processing information, his eyes moving between Candace and Jimmy as they took turns speaking. It wasn't until Jethro saw Mike's body tense and the usually calm eyes grow hard that he knew things were about to go bad.

Mike was turning away from the visitors and moving to stand next to the Jeep's rear passenger window, bracing one palm on the vehicle as he peered inside. Jethro watched as the hand on the window frame clenched into a tight fist and his friend go deathly still. When Mike turned to look at Candace, his eyes were cold and Jethro was moving before he realized it.

Descending the steps quickly, he approached Candace and Jimmy but kept his eyes trained on Mike, silently acknowledging the couple's presence as he stopped by them. He gently laid one hand on Candace's shoulder. He'd met the petite woman once before and immediately liked her for her sweet sassiness but he knew nothing of her husband, so chose to ignore him for the time being. His whole attention was focused totally on the man by the Jeep.

"What's going on, Mike?" He inquired quietly.

Mike only shook his head, pressing his lips tightly together. He continued to look at Candace and something silent seemed to pass between the siblings.

"Jethro," Candace covered his hand with one of hers, trying to gain his full attention, "I'm so sorry to be bringing this problem to you and Mike, especially during your leave, but we just didn't have any other choice. We had to get Anthony away from that sorry excuse of a family."

"Candace..." Jimmy warned his wife without any real anger.

The woman dropped her hand and looked squarely at her husband. "You know this isn't a slur against you, sweetheart, but you know I'm right."

James DiNozzo started to speak, seemed to think better of it, and relunctantly nodded his agreement with her assessment. "Yeah, I know."

Jethro looked to Jimmy, waiting for something more. When both he and Candace remained silent, the Marine turned his frustrated gaze back to his friend.

"Mike, I'm asking you. What's going on?"

"I think we need to take this inside," he finally met Jethro's eyes. "If this goes like I think it will, we need to be sitting down."

Instead of moving away from the Jeep, Mike opened the rear door and reached part of the way in, working with something on the seat, and emerged carrying a small, sleeping child. A mop of unruly brown hair obscured the face that rested under Mike's chin and a thin, lightweight blanket covered most of the body.

"This is Anthony," Mike stated simply, ignoring the surprised expression flaring in the blue eyes.

"He yours?" Jethro asked without judgment.

"No."

Mike stepped past the others and headed back toward the cabin's front door. He covered the ground quickly, hearing the crunch of footsteps far behind. He moved into the bedroom and gently placed the still-sleeping child in the middle of the mattress, carefully tucking the blanket around the small body. Stepping back, he paused briefly to look at the boy, wondering how someone this undersized could be causing so many problems. Shaking his head, he went to join the other adults.

Less than an hour later, the two Marines were finally beginning to understand the problem and all it entailed. They all sat around the kitchen's heavy, wooden table, the coffee Jethro had brewed growing cold and unwanted in their mugs, and discussed the life of Anthony DiNozzo. There was even a moment when Jethro thought he was going to have to excuse himself to avoid puking in front of the others but he hammered back the rising bile and remained seated. If Mike could endure, so would he.

Candace and Jimmy were relentless in their description of the boy's sad existence, never glossing over or deleting anything they thought the two men should know. It seemed to go on and on and Jethro finally had to just stop listening. How in the world had a six-year old boy survived when no one seemed to care?

Six years old.

The child, what he'd been able to see, didn't even look six years old. He was too small, too underdeveloped, too everything. He took a deep, shaky breath and looked directly at Mike.

"Did you know about this?"

Mike shook his head sadly. "No."

"What good would it have done, Mike?" Candace frowned. "Jimmy and I have only been involved less than a month, just since we moved back from Miami. You've been out of the States and, quite honestly, we were hoping the other relatives would be able to convince Frank DiNozzo to step up and take responsibility for his actions. Boy, were we wrong."

Frank DiNozzo. There was now a name for the monster in this nightmare.

"Most of the DiNozzo's are 'managed' by Frank, either working directly for him or relying on an allowance to maintain their lifestyles. Anyway," Jimmy sighed before continuing, "we knew we had a bigger problem when Child Services wouldn't even investigate. The woman we talked to said there was absolutely no truth to anything we ever heard, that she personally knew the DiNozzo family and could vouch for Anthony's wellbeing. Yeah, right."

"You can see our dilemma," Candace continued. "We can't take Anthony into our home until we can be assured Frank won't ever be able to get his hands on him again or..."

"Or?" Mike prompted at her hesitation.

"Or until we can contact and explain the situation to Anthony's maternal grandfather," Jimmy finished quietly.

"Where's he?" Jethro asked, seeing their discomfort.

"Washington. He's...a senator."

A senator. An elected official. A man who got where he was because people went to the polls and voted for him. A man who now had an abused grandson that needed his help. Jesus.

The two Marines looked at each other, knowing this was a very bad and very delicate situation. Jethro was first to look away and pose another question.

"Isn't someone going to be looking for him? I mean, you obviously want to hide him here for awhile."

Jimmy gave a short, angry huff. "That's the real kicker. Frank gave Anthony to his good-for-nothing step-brother three years ago, making him a guardian and paying him real well to keep the boy out of sight and well away from the others in the family. The dumb bastard just up and left the day after he put Anthony in the hospital. Took off with his latest whore to spend some time in Vegas."

"Whoa, whoa," Mike cut in quickly. "You mean Frank DiNozzo's not even actively involved in Anthony's life right now?"

"Well, not directly. He only pays his step-brother, Robert, to 'take care' of Anthony but, from what we've heard, hasn't seen the boy in about a year and a half."

"So, how did you get him out of the hospital?" Mike had to know, afraid his sister was about to admit to federal charges.

"My name is DiNozzo, too," Jimmy stated simply. "I may not be real proud of that right now but there was a time I was. When we found out Anthony could go home, and that there was no one around for him, I signed the release papers and got him out as fast as possible."

Jethro shook his head in disbelief, his liking for Jimmy ratcheting up several notches. "You signed Robert DiNozzo's name to the release papers?"

"Yeah, so? Look, Robert will be gone for a good two weeks, Frank doesn't care if the kid lives or dies, and anyone else who may know will be too cowed to do anything about it. There was no other choice."

"God, I love this man," Candace proclaimed proudly.

Silence settled again momentarily and Jethro had to wonder about this poor child. Motherless at birth, abandoned by his only parent, and given to another who used him as a meal ticket and, recently, a punching bag. Shifting in his seat, he made direct eye contact with Mike.

"It's okay with me if he stays."

Mike saw the sincerity in the blue eyes he loved so well. He placed a hand on Jethro's closest shoulder and squeezed his fingers in silent thanks. There was no better friend than Jethro Gibbs.

A slight movement from the hallway caught his attention and he looked past Jethro to greet the new arrival softly. "Hey, Anthony."

The others turned to face the boy who was now standing at the end of the hall, taking in the sleep-mussed hair and the slightly too-big t-shirt that hung off one slim shoulder. The small, angelic face would have been perfect, if not for the dark purple bruise across one cheek and the cut and slightly-swollen bottom lip. The cast covering the left arm almost looked too large for a child that size.

The boy blinked owlishly at the adults and rubbed a fist across his eyes, trying to chase the remains of his nap away. He squirmed a bit and slowly eased the hand to squeeze gently at the front of his sweatpants.

"Bathroom," the sweet voice said softly.

Jethro acted on instinct and was on his feet in a flash, moving toward the child before he realized his mistake. The skittish boy immediately stepped back against the wall and brought his good hand up to protect his face, head dropping low and away. It was clearly a defensive move, honed by practice, and Gibbs mentally berated himself, vowing to remember what his actions meant to this child.

Crouching down to the boy's level and trying to make himself appear as non-threatening as possible, Jethro pitched his voice low and gentle, He could see the small shoulders trembling slightly under the t-shirt.

"I'm sorry if I scared you. I didn't mean to move so fast but I thought you needed help. If I promise not to do it again, do you think you could look at me?"

The boy's hand dropped a few inches but he didn't raise his face, merely looked at the man from under a thick fall of bangs. The Marine offered a small smile and tried again.

"My name is Jethro...but you can call me Gunny."

"Jeth." He could he hear the amused reprimand in Mike's quiet voice and turned his head to glance at his friend. "You aren't a gunnery sergeant."

Jethro smiled and nodded once. "No but I will be soon."

Mike rolled his eyes at the confident statement but Jethro was already refocusing on the child. The small head had risen a fraction and the hand had dropped chest high.

"Can you say 'Gunny'?" Jethro asked gently.

The boy was still pale, eyes wide with apprehension. The small mouth trembled but whispered the necessary response.

"Gunny."

"Yep, that's me," Jethro said lightly, ignoring the fraility of the young voice and the fear still apparent in the stance. "What's your name?"

The boy shifted and looked at Jethro intently, blinking rapidly as he processed the question and the man kneeling before him. The tip of his pink tongue darted out to wet the surface of the cut lip before he formed his answer.

"Anthony," he whispered and raised his face a bit more, "but...you can call me...Tony."

The brave response caught them all off-guard and, at the table, Candace and Jimmy exchanged pleased smiles. It lightened their spirits and removed some of the misgivings about leaving him here with these men.

"Tony," Jethro sounded the name slowly and clearly, acting as though he had to consider the request. He offered another smile. "Okay. I'll call you Tony."

They eyed each other for a moment longer before Tony squirmed again, the hand returning to his sweatpants. The grasp was a bit tighter than before.

"Gotta pee, Gunny."

"This way," Jethro rose slowly and headed back down the hall. Tony stood uncertainly for a second and then followed quickly, bodily urges beating down any doubts.

"Hey, that went surprisingly well." Jimmy smiled as he rose from the table. "I'll go out to the Jeep and get his duffle. He doesn't have much, Mike. We weren't sure you and Jethro would let him stay."

"It's okay, Jimmy. We'll make do."

Mike watched until Jimmy had closed the front door before turning to his sister. "Do what you need to do to get this straightened out, Candace. Jeth and I have to report back on the fourteenth, so that doesn't give you much time."

"It will have to be enough."

Mike's eyes went hard again. "Candace, I'm going to only say this once, so listen very carefully."

"Okay."

"I'm only related to the DiNozzo family because of your marriage to Jimmy. Frankly, I don't care about me but Jeth doesn't need to be sucked into a situation that could potentially involve the law and possibly mess up his career plans. I would never do anything to hurt him and, if it means giving the boy up, I'd do it in a heartbeat. Understand?"

Candace smiled and placed a warm hand against his cheek. "More than you realize. I know how much he means to you."

"Candace...don't."

"No," her fingers moved to cover his mouth, "you listen to me now. You and Jethro are two of the most honorable men I know and that's a rare commodity nowadays. You just do what you feel to be right and I'll have enough faith to believe it will be all we need to get through this."

They remained silent until Jimmy reappeared carrying the small duffle and Mike could only wonder what the next days would be like. Candace's faith would have to sustain them all and, for Tony's sake, it just had to be enough.

TBC