DOWN MEMORY LINE 1
Gibbs residence... Winter of 1991
..KNOCK...KNOCK...KNOCK...
"What the hell?"
"What's going on, Jethro... who?"
"I don't know Shannon. I don't know who the hell is knocking at
my door at three in the morning – but believe me, they're going
to regret it!"
KNOCK KNOCK -
"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?" Gibbs rubbed his eyes, glaring blearily
at the skinny teen cowering in the doorway. For the life of
him, he hadn't expected this – this kid looking at him with
terrified eyes.
"G-good evening, sir. I'm sorry for waking you. My name is
Anthony – and, and my mother told me that if I ever needed help
or didn't have anyplace to go, I could ask you for your help."
He quailed at the look on the older man's face. "It's just –she,
she told me - that you were my father..."
Gibbs blinked his eyes at the sight on his doorstep. It was far
too early in the morning for this – he needed coffee. Kelly,
his eight year old daughter, had been giving them a rough couple
of nights due to a harsh flu, so he and his wife had been
catching up on some well-deserved sleep. His brain wasn't up to
this task first thing in the morning.
Now - the kid at the door had said something about a father.
Most likely, he was simply a victim of some particularly vicious
nightmares. Still…
"Come again?"
"I, I said that my name's – "
"I HEARD THAT." Lack of sleep combined with lack of caffiene
made for an extremely irritable man.
"But - you asked me to tell you again, Sir."
"I KNOW." He saw the kid flinch at his words. Hardened Marine
he might have been, but he'd never taken any pride in scaring
children. He took a deep breath, and deliberately softened his
tone." I know what I said. Kid, what are you doing here at this
hour? Where are your parents?" He frowned as the kid flinched
and wrapped his arms around himself. "You're not alone, are
you?"
"I'm here by myself, Sir. Sorry about the time, but I couldn't
find your house. I got lost in the dark, and a man two streets
up told me that this was the right address."
"Wait, wait." Gibbs shook his head. "Are you serious? You came
here alone?" Anger began to creep back into his tone. "What the
hell were you thinking? No, what the hell were your parents
thinking?"
The rusty gears of Gibbs' mind began to turn, and his brain
started to kick into gear. Obviously, the kid was a runaway.
Considering his dirty clothes and pinched look, he had spent a
couple of days in the streets. He wasn't wearing much – a T-
shirt and boxer shorts – and he was shivering. If that was all
he'd been wearing for the past few days in the middle of a harsh
winter – Dammit.
"Where are your parents?" He glanced outside the
doorway. "They hiding somewhere?" He didn't see another soul out
and about.
The kid just stared at him and slowly shook his head. The
desperation on his face was slowly sliding to despair.
"Sweetheart! Is something wrong? Jethro?" The soft voice of
his wife beckoned him from increasingly bleak thoughts.
"It's okay, Shannon. It's just a kid."
"A kid? Out there?" Her expression was outraged "For God's sake,
it's freezing cold – let him in!"
Gibbs sighed and swung the door wide open. "Come on in, kid.
You'll make me catch pneumonia if you hang around out there."
The kid stared at him with a stunned expression for a split
second before scampering inside. "Thank you, sir, ma'am."
"Oh my God." Gibbs heard the soft exclamation from his wife as
he bolted the door and turned around.
Inside the house, with the living room lights at full
illumination, he could take a better look at the kid. He was
short, no more that five feet at the most, and gaunt with shaggy
hair and expressive eyes. What drew the eye, however, was the
simple fact that no matter where he looked there wasn't a single
place on the kid's body that wasn't free from injury. Bruises
specked his arms in macabre patterns while scabs ran up his
sides, accentuating the open cuts that looked only recently
inflicted. The poor kid was holding onto a worn backpack as if
his life depended on it, favoring his right side and clutching
an arm close to his body. Some bastard had beaten this kid
within an inch of his life – and didn't stop there.
"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU?" Gibbs felt his blood boil at
the sight in front of him. The kid – he wasn't much more then a
boy, really - recoiled at the angry voice and almost fell from
the force of it.
"I- I'm s-sorry. I'm so sorry, sir, I-I just, I..."
The boy was shivering now, and Gibbs had the sinking feeling
that it wasn't from the cold alone. The kid was petrified. Well
done, Jethro. This kid had seven different shades of crap beaten
out of him, and you just scared him even more.
"I'm sorry." He lowered his voice, trying his best to sooth the
poor kid. "Don't be scared. Let's try this again, okay?" The boy
gave a slight nod, but never raised his eyes from the floor. "My
name is Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and that beautiful woman over there
is my wife, Shannon." He spared her a smile before crouching
down and slowly extending his hand towards the boy. "You said
your name was Anthony, didn't you?"
"Tony." The boy said in a very small voice.
"Excuse me?"
"I –I mean, if-if you want you can call me Tony. Sir."
Hesitantly, Tony reached his hand towards Gibbs' own. Taking it
in a gentle grasp, the agent could again see how badly hurt the
boy was. New and faded scars twisted over his flesh, and he
could have sworn he saw a pair of missing fingernails.
"Do you like to be called Tony?" He kept his voice soft,
unthreatening.
"Yes – it's better then Anthony."
"Ok, then, I'll call you Tony. But only if you don't call me
Sir, alright?" He smiled at the kid.
Tony lifted his eyes towards the older man's face, his own full
of surprise and uncertainty. "And - how should I address you?"
"What do you think about "Gibbs" for now? It's my name, after
all."
"Yes, s - I mean, Gibbs." The boy smiled tentatively back.
Shannon cleared her throat, crouching down beside her
husband "Hi, Tony. I'm Shannon – it's nice to meet you."
"Hello, Ma'am. It's nice to meet you too." His eyes flickered
uncertaintly over her face.
Shannon smiled and nudged her husband. "Polite little guy. Don't
you think so, honey?"
Gibbs smiled. "Why don't you sit down Tony? You look thirsty –
want something to drink?"
"What about milk?" Shannon interrupted. "I think that's a
suitable drink for this time of night."
"What do you think, Tony?"
"Uh – milk's fine. Thank you." He looked faintly bewildered.
"Ok. Make yourself comfortable. We'll be back in a moment."
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"Jethro, tell me what's going on." The moment they were in the
kitchen, Shannon had cornered her husband and demanded
answers. "Why on earth is this kid here after midnight, in this
condition? Do you know him?"
"Shannon - I don't know this kid." He sighed, and ran a hand
through his hair. "But he said - he said that I'm his father."
"WHAT!" Her eyes were wide.
"Ssh!" Gibbs cast a nervous look towards the other
room. "Shannon, you'll scare him!"
"Is it true? Are you his father?" Her shock had subsided, and a
look of astonishment taken its place.
"I don't know!" He looked at her with pleading eyes. "I've never
seen that boy before, Shannon, I swear to you on my life! I
didn't even know about him before tonight!"
"Well, first things first." She refused to meet his eyes. "Let's
get some warm liquid inside that kid."
"Shannon... sweetheart! Please!" He begged her. "I don't want
this to come between us. I don't know everything yet, but I know
one thing." He caught her chin, gently tilting her face until
their eyes met once again. "I know that I love you, you and
Kelly, and -" he was interrupted by the pair of soft lips that
gently silenced him.
"Honey, how old do you think that boy is?"
He frowned slightly. "Ten, maybe eleven. I'm not sure."
"And how many years have we known each other?"
He smiled at her. "Nine blissful years. And your point is?"
She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. "So - if that kid
really is yours, I didn't even know you at the time. Anyway, we
can't just leave him outside to freeze – what kind of person do
you think I am?"
Gibbs put his arms around his beloved wife and whispered into
her ear "I'm the luckiest man in word, you know. I remember now
why I love you so."
"Just now, Jethro?" She smiled archly at him.
"Now, and every moment of my life." The kiss that followed gave
him the courage to once again face the kid in the living room.
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Tony had fallen asleep on the couch, his face slack with
slumber. Shannon and Gibbs paused at the sight, exchanging a
soft look. Better to let the kid sleep – he needed the rest,
and questions could always wait ‘till the morning.
A soft moan drew their attention. The kid was whimpering in his
sleep, thrashing back and forth in the grips of a nightmare.
"Pl-please, no...Please no, sir, I'll be good, I promise…I won't
ever do it again – NO!" He startled awake, eyes wide and a
scream lodged in his throat.
"Hey!" Gibbs hurried to his side, cupping Tony's head in his
hands. Eyes glazed by fear and sleep met his own, and the
frightened body went tense. "Hey! Tony, it's alright.
Everything's okay. I'm here, remember? Calm down..."
Tony shook his head groggily, awareness seeping back into his
eyes. "S-sorry, Sir. I fell asleep, didn't I." He cringed, arms
wrapping around his midsection protectively.
"It's okay." Gibbs soothed him. "You were tired. Are you
alright?" He peered closely into the leaf-green eyes before him.
"Yes. It was – it was just a bad dream." Despite his words, the
boy on the sofa did not look all right by any stretch of the
imagination.
Shannon slowly drew close, her posture unthreatening A glass was
in her hand. "Sweetie, here's your milk. Be careful – it's warm."
Tony accepted it with a shaking hand. Clutching it close, he
eyed the liquid almost with disbelief. "Thank you, ma'am."
"Shannon." She smiled at his confused look. "Call me Shannon,
please."
"Thanks, Shannon." He took a tentative sip, eyes suddenly alight
with startled pleasure.
"Good?" Gibbs questioned softly, eyes on the glass of milk that
was hurriedly vanishing. Tony gulped it down as if he'd not had
anything to drink in days. It was entirely possible, Gibbs mused
darkly, that he hadn't.
Tony looked up, a sudden burst of realization dawning on his
face. "Oh! S - Gibbs, she asked me to give this to you." Tony
dug hurriedly in his tattered backpack before handing a crumpled
envelope to Gibbs.
"She?" He accepted the envelope gingerly, eyes still locked on
the frightened child. "Who's ‘she?'"
"My mother." Tony shifted, expression suddenly uncertain. He
looked down at his hands, clenched tightly around the empty
glass. "She said that she needed me to give that to you. That –
that the answers you'd be looking for were inside."
Gibbs' eyes were drawn with magnetic intensity to the faded
paper. He could feel Shannon coming to stand at his shoulder,
silent support radiating outwards from her frame. "Did you ever
read this, Tony?"
The boy shook his head hurriedly. "No, sir, not ever."
"Gibbs." Tony looked confused. "Don't sir me, Tony." He opened
the envelope carefully, pulling out an old picture and an
equally battered letter.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
My dearest Leroy -
I write these lines to you in loving remembrance of the short
time we spent together. The memories and moments that we shared
together have remained cherished treasures of my heart. That one
glorious summer in Long Island before you entered the service –
oh, how clearly I recall! When I saw your eyes for the first
time, I knew that I was lost - and I knew you were the only man
I could ever accept into my life. You gave a new meaning to my
existence, far removed from the rich and superficial. I know,
with the utmost certainty, that the short time we shared was the
best I have ever known in my life. And yet you gave me still
more. Do you remember that night? Two days before you left, you
gave me another wonderful gift - our son.
My father – he didn't approve of me. And I knew he would never
approve of us. He had planned my life from the cradle, even to
the extent of my marriage. He was well aquainted with a certain
family that moved in the same circles he shared. The Dinozzos
embodied all of the qualities that he so cherished – rich,
fashionable, and utterly cutthroat in the world of business.
And, as luck would have it, they had a son. Fabio. My family
thought that Fabio was the best man a woman like me could ever
hope to achieve. Would it surprise you to learn that I hate him?
I loathe his existence on this earth with a fury I cannot hope
to put into words.
Three weeks after we said our final goodbyes, Fabio invited me
to a party that celebrated our coming engagement. I had little
choice in the matter. He – he is not a patient man. He took me
that night, against my protests – he wished to sates his lusts
in me at the soonest possible convience. To him, I was but one
more possession – and he wanted to own me in every manner
possible. Believe me, I did not go willingly! But unlike you, I
am weak – so weak. There was nothing that I could have done.
And so I married a monster.
Fabio is not a good man. He is incapable of love, even towards
himself - he used to beat me, even during the course of my
pregnancy. And yet some good came of it. My Anthony was born
before the estimated date. They believe that he came into this
world early, possibly because of the trauma visited upon me -
but I know the truth. He's yours – and the paternity test I
secretly ordered confirms it.
I know that I have betrayed your trust by not informing you of
this before. I know that I have no right to ask this of you.
Anthony is so sweet and smart, and I love him so. When I look
into his eyes, I can see you reflected there. He is kind and
clever, and so very protective - and for these reasons Fabio
hates him to the depths of the withered thing he names his soul.
And this monster is hurting my baby. He's making him do such
horrible things, and I cannot stop him – I'm so weak.
I fear I'm no longer the woman you knew. I'm such a bad mother,
and I'm hurting Anthony as well. Not physically – I would never
raise a hand to my child. But – there are other ways. I turned
to the bottle some time ago, and when that failed to give me
comfort, the pills took up a permanent residence in my cabinet.
I'm in hell, Leroy, and Anthony is caught in the middle between
Fabio and me. He tries so desperately to take care of me – and
Fabio punishes him for it. I can't stay with him forever – I
wish I could, but I fear the worst. That's the reason for this
letter. I'm telling you the truth, Gibbs – you're the only one
who can save my baby.
Forgive me. I don't know what else to do. I have no family who
would give Anthony the care he needs, no kin who would stand
against Fabio. I have no one to turn to – except you.
I beg you, Leroy – save my baby. Save our son – he's the most
precious thing in the world to me.
In remembrance always,
Annabella "Annie" Dinozzo.
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