The house was quiet now. Serene, tranquil, peaceful. All the commotion and noise from earlier in the day were things of the past, distant memories as the house and it's occupants settled into the welcoming silence of nighttime. The big, boisterous moving men who'd lugged the furniture and heavy boxes around, and who'd continually kidded the young teenager trying his best to help, were long gone and on their way back across the state line to their own homes. Their loud, sometimes-crass comments had made her blush, at times, but the boy stayed right among them, taking the good-natured barbs in stride and zinging a few back in his wake. They'd all laughed at his audacity and, before the day was over, he'd even managed to secure a regulation moving company hat for his own head. The sight had brought a smile to the woman's face as she watched the teenager struggle with a box earmarked for his new bedroom, seeing him carefully balancing his load while climbing the steps leading to the second floor. They'd all worked hard and, now, as she surveyed the surrounding area, Candace DiNozzo was quite pleased with all that had been accomplished. It wasn't an easy task to start the morning by waking up in one home in New York and ending the night by getting ready for bed in a different home in Virginia.

Crossing the living room and stepping around a few yet-unpacked boxes, the woman carried a basket of freshly-dried clothes to the floral-print sofa and sank gratefully down onto the soft cushions, letting the deep padding ease some of the day's aches and pains. She slipped out of her sneakers and dug her toes into the plush carpet, enjoying the freedom and savoring the feel of the soft fibers. She leaned back and closed her eyes, keenly aware of the persistant tug of sleep but knowing she had one more small job to complete before finding her own rest for the night. Cracking an eye open, Candace glared at the laundry basket and nudged it with one foot, watching it tip and immediately right itself. Darn baskets were too bottom-heavy for casual kicks. She'd have to be more violent if she really wanted to up-end it. Sighing softly, she knew that wasn't part of the plan.

As she sat up and reached for the first item to fold, the phone on the end table just to her left began to ring and she fumbled to get to it quickly, not wanting the noise to wake the sleeping youth upstairs. Candace snatched at the handset, eyes immediately tracking to the clock on the mantle across the room. Ten thirty-five. Huh. Who would be calling at this hour of the night?

"Hello?" She responded, trying to keep the fatigue from her tone.

There was a slight pause at the other end before the person spoke. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"Jethro!" Candace relaxed at the sound of the familiar voice, leaning back and swiftly forgetting about the laundry at her feet. "No, this is a perfect time. How are you?"

"I'm fine, Candace," he replied. "Just thought I'd call to see how the day went. You all settled in?"

"Well, as much as we can be for the first day. There's still boxes piled everywhere but the big stuff is taken care of for now."

"Good. What time did the movers get away?"

"Um, let me think," she honestly hadn't looked at the clock at the time of their departure but thought she could make a fairly good guess. "I suppose it was around six or six-thirty. All I really know is, by the time they left, Tony was starving and we both were pretty whipped. When the pizza I ordered eventually got here, Tony was already half asleep. I don't even think he remembered to brush his teeth before he went to bed."

"Oh, he's asleep?" There was no mistaking the disappointment in the man's tone. "He must have been really tired."

"Yes, he was. I know he'll be sorry to hear he missed your call."

Both adults were silent for a few moments and Candace knew the man had serious doubts about her statement. She hadn't been able to get any information from Tony but, during his last visit with Jethro, something had happened that caused the boy to withdraw slightly and start distancing himself from the ex-Marine. Candace had been worried, at first, but Tony assured her he was perfectly fine and had just decided it was time for him to be a little more mature...he didn't need to go running to Gunny everytime something went wrong. But she knew it went deeper. She'd seen Tony's sad expressions and worried looks every time Jethro's engagement to Carolyn was mentioned, heard his quiet crying the night of the wedding, and witnessed, first hand, the youth's decreased appetite that had sent her scurrying to Doctor Amberg for help. It was nothing more, she'd been assured, than another form of grief, that Tony was losing, in his young eyes, someone who'd been a constant, firm, and unchanging friend and savior. It would always be, she was also told, difficult for the teenager to accept any kind of change because of his history of neglect. Now, Candace wasn't so sure of the doctor's assessment. He seemed to take to the idea of moving, and to this new house, just fine. There had to be another reason for his change.

"So," Jethro cleared his throat and tried to go for a bit of humor. "How's the neighborhood? No axe-murderer living next door?"

Candace laughed and relaxed, allowing him to turn the conversation to other less-sensitive things. "Not that I'm aware of. I did see two teenage girls giving Tony the once-over today while he was helping the movers with several big boxes. I'm pretty sure he saw them, too, because he tried to carry too much and ended up tripping over his own feet. By the time he managed to get up, the girls were gone and the movers were having a good laugh at his expense. They rode him about that for the rest of the day."

"I don't think a couple of teenage girls are going to be much of a threat," Jethro chuckled and then quickly sobered, "though you do need to make sure he's got plenty to do this summer while school's out. Things can get out of hand pretty fast if a kid has too much free time on his hands."

"Oh, Foster's already taken care of that for me," she reported happily. "He managed to get Tony registered for senior league baseball and the practices start in just a couple of days."

"Foster, huh?" Jethro spoke quietly, not use to hearing anyone call Tony's grandfather by his given name. Especially Candace. She'd always referred to him as 'the old man' or 'the Senator'.

"Yes, he's been wonderful to us, Jethro," her voice full of admiration and gratitude. "This house, a new job, a great school for Tony. What more could I ask for?"

"Sounds like everything is falling into place. But I thought Tony was a little upset about leaving the old house and neighborhood."

"He was, at first, but slowly changed his mind. I think he really did see the old place was just too much for the both of us, especially after he had to take over mowing the grass and raking the leaves! Frankly, Jethro, I was glad to make the move. The old house holds too many memories I need to put to rest. I...I saw Jimmy everywhere in that home. Oh!" She exclaimed suddenly. "I just remembered something. When I was cleaning things out for the move, I came across several old letters from Mike. I don't know why I've kept them for so long but, now, I really need to let go of that, too. I thought...well, I thought you'd might like to have them. Mike did mention you often when he wrote, you know."

"He did?" Jethro honestly sounded surprised. "I didn't know that. I...well, yes, I would like to read them, at least, but would you mind..um..."

"What?"

"Would you hold on to them for a bit longer?" There was a strained quality to his voice. "This may not be the best time to send me letters from an ex-lover."

Candace frowned. "What is it, Jethro? Oh, goodness, I haven't even asked about Carolyn. Is she all right?"

"She's fine."

The short response did nothing to ease her growing concern. "Jethro."

"Candace."

"I'm in no mood to play this game with you, Jethro," she scolded and sighed, kicking up her feet to rest them on the edge of the coffee table. "I love you like I loved my own brother, so I want the truth. What is it?"

Jethro was quiet for a long time. Finally, he spoke. "She's...unhappy."

"Unhappy?" Candace frowned at the statement. "What does that mean? What does she have to be unhappy about?"

"Apparently, everything."

"Specifics, Jethro," she chided. "If you can't tell me the specifics, then it's worse than I can imagine."

"How bad can you imagine?" He tried once again to lighten the tone. Knowing the woman like he did, he should have known better.

'
"Jethro!" Candace all but growled.

"Okay, okay," he surrendered with a huge sigh. "She didn't like moving away from her family, her friends, and her job in Atlanta, even though she knew before we married I would be placed elsewhere when my training at FLETC was completed. She doesn't like the home I found for us in Norfolk and doesn't understand why we can't have a bigger and better place. She can't find a job in this 'crap of a town' because everyone either works for the military or the government and that's not her cup of tea. She hates the hours I keep, even though she knows, because I'm new and low-man on the totem pole at NCIS, that I would be on-call twenty-four seven. She doesn't understand anything, Candace, and I don't know what to do about it!"

His frustration was coming through loud and clear and she actually had to pull the phone slightly away from her ear for a moment. "Jethro, I had no idea."

"And, to top that all off," his voice was harsh and ragged, "she wants to have a baby."

"Jethro!" Candace wanted to be happy for the man, knew he would make a wonderful father, but didn't know quite how to respond to his news. "What are you going to do?"

"Well, I'm not planning on bringing a child into this relationship," he confessed tiredly, "not like it is now. Can you imagine how messed up that kid would be?"

"Jethro," Candace gentled her voice, "things can't be that bad."

"You have no idea."

"Well," she searched for something to say, something reassuring. "Maybe you just need to give her a little space right now. Why don't you come for a short visit, just to get a bit of perspective. We'd love to have you."

"I'm not too sure about the welcome I would get from Tony," the man sounded more depressed than she'd ever heard since Mike's death.

"He misses you, Jethro," Candace assured confidently.

"I...I miss him, too," the soft reply was breathed into the phone.

"You know, I never did thank you for having that special talk with Tony back when he was...you know..."

The quiet chuckle warmed her heart. "Gosh, Candace, if you can't even say 'masturbation', what are you going to do when he wants to talk about intercourse?"

"I'll just send him packing right back to you again!" She exclaimed, glad to hear the lighter tone.

"Too late."

"What?" Candace exclaimed with feigned indignation. "What do you mean, 'too late'?"

"Candace," Jethro sobered again, "didn't Tony tell you anything about what happened while he was visiting me?"

"Not really," she sighed and eyed the laundry basket. "I mean, I immediately realized you'd had a talk with him about...masturbation...but he actually became a little withdrawn. I thought it was just because he was missing you. To tell you the truth, he wasn't very happy with your decision to marry Carolyn. Doctor Amberg said it was normal for him to feel that way."

"Good," he was relieved to hear the news about his therapy. "I was wondering if he was still seeing her. Did Senator Hathaway set you up with someone new in Manassas?"

Candace was confused. "Tony stopped seeing Doctor Amberg shortly after he came back from his visit with you, Jethro. I thought you knew that."

"How would I know something like that?" He was angry now, the words clipped and precise. "Why did he stop seeing her?"

"He told me he had nothing else to say to her, that he wasn't a needy little kid anymore, and that he was just wasting his grandfather's money," Candace tried to justify the decision. "I talked it over with Foster and he said it was up to Tony."

"Oh, he did, did he?" This was obviously not the news he wanted to hear. "Why would you allow a twelve-year old boy to make a decision like that?"

"Jethro," Candace was floundering to understand his raging emotions, "why are you so upset?"

"Because he still has issues that need to be addressed, issues that could have a lasting effect on him, issues that could possibly taint his ability to have a normal relationship with another human being."

"Issues," now she was getting very scared. "Jethro, what on earth are you talking about? What kind of issues?"

"He didn't tell you anything about what happened here? Didn't see Doctor Amberg?" The man's voice was strident and loud.

"No!" She yelled back and rose to her feet, her own anger catching fire. "Maybe you should just tell me yourself. What happened to Tony? What should he have told me? Damn it, Jethro, you'd better spit it out right now!"

The man took several deep breaths. "He almost lost his virginity..."

"What?" Candace yelled again and began to pace. "And you just planned on keeping this from me forever?"

"No! I thought he would tell you or, at least, tell Doctor Amberg."

"We can't even talk about masturbation and you think he's going to tell me he had sex?! Oh, my God, do I need to have him tested for STDs?"

"Candace, no," Jethro was trying to get the woman to settle down. "Listen to me. He did not have sex. He did not."

"Are you sure? How can you be so sure?"

"He came back to the apartment very early and..."

"Back to the apartment?" She was immediately angry again. "Just where was he?"

"He'd gone to another apartment with several other kids. I swear, Candace, I didn't know he wasn't where he told me he was going to be..."

"And where was that?" She demanded.

"At the swimming pool. Candace, he was just going to hang out with the others by the pool for a few hours, that's all. That was the plan and that's what he told me he was going to do."

"He lied to you?" The woman asked and looked blankly at the television screen, not wanting to believe the words she was hearing.

"Not really," he tried to assure. "I think he was tricked into going with the others and it all just backfired. He came back to me pretty early, crying..."

"Crying?" Her voice shook at the thought of Tony being hurt. "Was he injured?"

"A little scratch, that's all," Jethro soothed. "He was more upset by the fact that it all made him sick to his stomach, that he thought about his Uncle Robert when he was with this girl."

"Oh, my God," Candace breathed, covering her mouth with one hand and sinking back to the safety of the sofa. She was honestly hoping to never hear *that* name again. Ever. "Why would he do that?"

The man was silent. Candace listened to his breathing and knew he was trying to come to some decision.

"You listen to me, Leroy Jethro Gibbs," she hissed into the mouthpiece, "I don't want any more secrets between us. Tony is my number one concern and I need to know if I should be getting him back into therapy now. I can't believe you've kept this from me. No more secrets. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I understand," he conceeded softly. "Tony and this girl...Jessie...they did some kissing and groping..."

"Groping?" She interrupted. "Just how much groping?"

"Tony said he touched her breasts and that Jessie...had her hands on him."

"Meaning?" She wanted it all spelled out and wasn't going to accept anything else but the whole truth.

Jethro sighed. "Jessie put her hands down his pants, manipulated his penis."

"Manipulated his penis," she repeated, frowning at the oddly worded description. It was hard enough to get her brain around the concept her twevle-year old ward being sexually active without her knowledge and, now, this. How was she ever going to trust him again? "And then?"

The man cleared his throat. "He said Jessie pushed him onto the bed and held him down. When that happened, he got upset, thought about Robert, and got sick to his stomach. All he wanted to do was get out of the situation and that's what he did. He came immediately back to me."

"And this thing about his Uncle Robert? What was that all about?" The woman rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache building behind her eyes.

"Candace," Jethro's voice was strained, "you know he was abused as a child by Robert."

"Of course, I know that," she hissed in frustration. "What has that got to do with this girl?"

"Candace," Jethro tried again, "when Jessie held him down on the bed, it reminded Tony of what Robert had done to him. Do you *understand* now?"

The phone fell from Candace's suddenly-numb fingers, bouncing once before coming to rest mouthpiece down on the carpet. She felt ill and the urge to vomit was intense but she fought it back and tried to keep breathing, eyes focusing on the wall behind the television and clearly seeing the scared, six-year old boy she'd taken in seven years ago. Oh, my God. She knew he'd been hurt, been mistreated, been abused. Obviously, Jimmy had decided to keep the extent of the abuse from her because, until this very moment, she had assumed everything *but* intercourse had taken place. Now, she knew the truth. Now, she could understand. A voice kept repeating her name, over and over, from some great distance, but she didn't seem able to reconnect with reality.

Suddenly, someone was standing directly in front of her and she had to look up, straight into Tony's furious face. His green eyes were awash in tears and his fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides. She'd seen him mad plenty of times before but never with this much obvious, raw rage.

"Tony," she managed to whisper, watching him flinch at the tenderness of her tone.

"No!" He all but yelled, body tense and shaking with barely-surpressed anger. "I...I hate you! Is this what you and Gunny do? Talk about me behind my back when I'm at school or out playing somewhere? Do you talk about all the dirty little things that were done to me when I was just a kid? Do you compare notes, discuss how much I jerk-off now?"

"Tony!" Candace was appalled at his hurtful tirade and got to her feet, taking a step toward the boy. "Don't you dare speak to me like that?"

"Like what?" His voice was still raised and he was now at a height that brought them close to the same level. Something dark and dangerous sparked within his eyes. "I heard you! I heard the phone ring and I heard you talking and I heard everything you said to Gunny! You...you called me a liar! A liar! And you think I've got diseases, now, because of what happened. You don't think I know what you said? And Gunny," the tears began to run down his face and his voice cracked, "and Gunny doesn't want me around anymore, he thinks I'm just a little, useless kid who doesn't know what real love is and...and now he's got Carolyn and I hate her! I hate her and I hate you and I hate Gunny!"

"Tony," Candace calmly reached out to the distraught boy and placed a hand on his arm but he quickly jerked away, raising one fist at the woman. Surprised but not willing to back down, she never broke eye contact. "You going to hit me, Tony?"

"I...I might," he stammered, taking a step back.

Candace stepped forward, maintaining the small space between them. "What good will that do?"

"It will make me feel better!" He spat and stepped away again.

"Would it really, honey?" She used the endearment and moved forward again, too. "Would it really make you feel better to hurt me, to hit me so hard I might fall down, bleeding? Would it make you happy to see me cry because you hit me? Tony, honey, would it?"

"I...I don't know," his hands went up to his hair and began tugging futively at the strands, "I don't know!"

She stepped close enough to touch him again and, this time, he didn't move away. It was a small start. Candace carefully reached up and pulled his hands from his scalp, bringing them toward her face, and resting them against her cheeks.

"I love you so much, honey," she whispered and watched as his head dropped, shoulders shaking in sorrow. "I know you're hurting right now but, you've got to believe me, Jethro and I were *not* talking behind your back. He thought...he thought I already knew about everything that happened when you went to Atlanta for your visit. He thought you had told me or Doctor Amberg about what had happened..."

"It was for *me* to tell," his head snapped up, words breaking through the sobs. "I...I didn't want anyone else to know. He had no right to tell you anything!"

"He had every right, Tony. I'm your legal guardian and anything that happens to you is my business, good or bad. I try to take care of you as best as I can but, if things are kept from me, how will I ever know if I'm doing the best for you?"

He pulled his hands from hers, firmly but gently, and turned away, using the hem of his t-shirt to wipe at his face. "I...I have to keep some things just for me. Don't you understand? I...I don't have anything that's just mine. Nothing. I have to keep secrets..."

"Why, Tony?" Candace moved so she could see his face, see the pain and the desolation. "Why do you have to keep secrets?"

"Because good boys keep secrets," he whispered, eyes clouding with some distant memory. "Good boys who keep secrets don't get hurt."

Candace felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck rise and knew she was witnessing something important, something she had no idea how to handle. Jethro! Quickly, she glanced down and to one side, seeing the phone still resting where she'd dropped it earlier. If Jethro was still on the line, maybe he'd heard everything. She looked back to Tony.

"Honey, would you like to talk to Jethro?" She asked quietly.

"Jethro?" He asked, dazed and not really understanding her offer.

"Tony, would you like to talk to Gunny? He's on the phone right now," she moved back and bent to retrieve the handset, bringing it swiftly to her ear, and whispering quickly to the man. "You are still on the line, aren't you, Jethro?"

"Yes," the voice was tense. "Do whatever you need to do to get him on this phone!"

Candace held the device out toward Tony and closed the distance. She saw the wary look he gave her and the phone, confusion mixing with distrust.

"It's Gunny, Tony," she said soothingly, "he really wants to talk to you."

"He does?" The boy questioned, eyes blinking in surprise. "Why?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Candace persisted, pushing the phone to his chest and waiting until he had it in one hand before moving away. She watched carefully as he looked down at the thing in his palm and slowly brought it up to one ear.

"Hello?" His voice was whisper-soft.

"Tony," Jethro kept his tone soothing and calm, "how are you?"

"I...I don't know. Is this you, Gunny?"

The continued confusion was not a good sign. "Yes, it's me. I'm right here, Tony. I need to talk to you. Will you talk to me...please?"

"I guess so. Where are you?"

"I'm home right now, in Norfolk. Remember when I moved here from Atlanta? I hear you moved into your new house today. Is that right?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Okay," Jethro fumbled to find something to bring the boy back from wherever he'd gone, to ground him to reality. "I understand you're going to start playing senior league baseball this summer and practice starts in just a couple of days. I bet you're anxious for that, huh?"

"Yeah, that...that will be fun," Tony's voice was a little clearer and he shifted from foot to foot. "I...I don't know anyone yet but I'll get to know the other players pretty quick, especially if I see them everyday at practice."

"I would think so," the man agreed and relaxed a little. "Where are you right now? Are you in your new room?"

The questions made the youth blink and look around. He saw Candace sitting close by on the edge of the couch, sorting clean socks and folding underwear and t-shirts. No, this wasn't his room.

"I'm in the living room, Gunny," he sighed, suddenly very tired. He sat down on the carpet and leaned back against the entertainment center, legs stretching out in front and ankles crossing. "It's a nice house, I guess, but I don't know about the neighborhood yet. There's suppose to be a city park a couple blocks away. That's where I'll be playing ball. Do you...do you think you could come watch some of my games?"

"I don't know, Tony, work is really keeping me busy these days."

"Oh. A lot of bad people out there?" The boy asked calmly, picking at a loose thread on his pajama pants. He heard a small 'tsking' sound and cut his eyes toward Candace, seeing her shaking her head at his plucking action. He immediately stopped and sighed, forcing his fingers to stillness.

"Lots," Jethro confirmed, glad the teenager was sounding so much calmer. "But I really enjoy it. How'd school end up for you this year? Still keeping those grades up?"

"Oh, yeah. Candace would kick my butt if I got anything low. I was kind of glad to leave that school, to tell the truth, especially after that thing with Brittany's mom."

"The other kids give you a hard time?"

Tony glanced again at Candace and turned slightly away from her, lowering his voice just a bit. "Some of the older ones did but it was okay. Most everyone else said I was right to tell the truth about what I'd heard."

"Of course you were," Jethro agreed. Candace had put the wheels in motion as soon as she'd gotten that report and it didn't take long for other kids to come forward with tales of their own. The local law enforcement officals had a field day with it and there had even been a brief mention about the woman on the national news one night. 'Cool mom' indeed. "How's things with your grandfather?"

"Fine," the boy was warming to the comfortable topics of conversation. "I go for my regular visit with him next weekend and he said something about going to the ballet again. I asked him if it was going to be the Nutcracker but he said it was the wrong time of the year for it."

Jethro could hear the grin in the words and knew what the youth was referring to. "So, no nut cracking this time?"

Tony laughed into the receiver. "They may not get cracked but they sure get flaunted around a lot!"

Both chuckled for a few good moments. Jethro cleared his throat and, when he spoke again, the truth was easy to hear. "I miss you, Tony."

Tony swallowed hard before he could respond. "I miss you, too, Gunny. How's...how's Carolyn?"

Jethro sighed but respected the boy for asking. "She's okay. I've spoken to Candace about her so she can fill you in on all the details, okay? Tell her I said it was all right for her to tell you everything."

Tony frowned at the cryptic response but agreed. "Okay, Gunny."

"Tony," Jethro knew he had to breech the subject and that it was now or never, "I think you should talk to your grandfather about finding someone for you to see again, for therapy. You need to talk about what happened to you while you were here during your visit..."

"I don't want to..." the young voice was serious and quiet.

"I think you need to," Jethro persisted, interrupting the boy quickly. "I'm worried about you and, now, Candace is worried about you. Tony, you got very angry at her just a little while ago and it sounded like you were going to hit her. You need to do this, if not for us, than for yourself. You don't want to be angry like that. Plus, it would make us both very happy if you did."

"That's not fair," Tony scowled. "Why should I do someting just because it will make you happy? It won't make me happy."

"It just might answer that question lurking in the back of your mind..."

"What question?" Tony sulked, pulling his legs up close to his body.

Jethro sighed heavily. "You know very well what I'm talking about. Tony, your grandfather can find someone you'll feel comfortable talking with, someone like Doctor Amberg."

"Doctor Amberg was a bitch."

"Tony!" The reprimand came from the woman on the couch and the man on the phone simultanteously and the boy couldn't help the laugh that escaped.

"Stereo! He chuckled and then quickly looked toward Candace. "Sorry."

Jethro heard the apology and accepted it as well. "She may not have been the person you needed, Tony, but you certainly need someone now."

"I can talk to you..." he suggested hopefully.

"And I will listen to anything you want to say," the man agreed, "but you need someone who can do more than just listen. You need someone who is trained to give you advice, to help find the answers you really need to get past this. I can't do that, Tony, no matter how much I wish I could."

"But I'll have to start all over again," he was actually scared at the thought and his voice trembled. "All the stuff I've already gotten out of the way with Doctor Amberg will have to be repeated again. I...I don't want to do that, Gunny. Don't you understand?"

"Maybe you won't have to repeat it," Jethro suggested. "Your grandfather can get your records transferred. I wish I could be more certain, Tony, but I really don't know."

The teenager was silent as he digested the request and the information. He glanced at Candace and saw her resting back on the couch, eyes shut and arms crossed protectively over her chest. He felt a rush of emotion and sighed. He loved her like a child loves a mother and didn't want to cause her any more pain. She'd opened her home and her heart to him when he had no one, given him a safe place to live, good food to eat, and clean clothes to wear. She took him places and made his miserable life bearable. And what had he done in return? Would it really be that difficult for him to do if this made her happy? Fresh tears came to his eyes and he dropped his head in shame.

"Okay, Gunny," he choked softly into the phone, "I'll do it."

"Thank you, Tony," Jethro breathed a huge sigh of relief. "You just don't know how happy that makes me just to hear you say it. Listen, I'd like to talk longer but I think I just heard Carolyn's car pull up in the drive. Let me say goodbye to Candace..."

"I think she's fallen asleep on the couch," the boy whispered. "Today was really hard on her."

"Well, you tell her I said I'll come for a visit as soon as I can, okay?"

"You will? Really?"

"As soon as I can. In the meantime, why don't you try taking care of her for a little while? If you can't get her upstairs, at least get her a pillow and blanket. She'd do it for you."

"I know she would and I'll take care of her. I promise."

"Good," his voice was much quieter. "Listen, I really need to get off the phone. I...I love you, Tony. I know you have doubts about that sometimes but, I do. Never forget that."

"I won't. I love you, too."

"Goodnight."

"'night, Gunny."

Waiting until he heard the clear click of the line going dead on the other end, Tony carefully and quietly pushed himself off the floor and tiptoed to the end table, returning the phone to it's charger. He paused and watched Candace sleep, only now noticing the few stray strands of gray in her brown hair and the crinkles of lines around her eyes. She looked so tired. Moving slowly, Tony levered Candace's legs up onto the couch and watched her settle into a more comfortable position, head resting on one of the small throw pillows. He snagged a light-weight blanket from the back of the closest armchair and spread it over her body, making sure her petite feet were properly covered.

Stepping away, Tony turned off all the lights, except for the one on the table leading into the kitchen, and checked to make sure all the doors were locked. Once satisfied the house was secure, he moved back to the staircase and started the short trek up, his own fatigue finally grabbing hold. As he settled into the comfort of his bed, Tony smiled and turned over to look at the picture on his dresser, seeing the familiar face of the man who still meant so much to him.

"Goodnight, Gunny," he whispered into the dark. "See you soon."


FIN
Next: Through the Years: Fourteen