The Scotsman leisurely sipped on his tea as he listened to his old friend describe the events of the past few hours. Ducky was disturbed by the weariness in Jethro’s voice as he ashamedly admitted his initial anger at the younger man now occupying his spare bedroom. He could understand Gibbs’ anger; that boat was a part of Jethro’s soul and upon seeing its destruction, he had obviously felt as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest.
“My first instinct was to pick him up off the floor and beat the crap out of him,” Gibbs painfully confessed. “I was so close to putting him through the wall.”
“What stopped you?” the ME inquired, his cultured voice reflecting the sympathy that he felt for the team leader.
“I’m not sure. Tony was lying there on the floor with the sledgehammer in his hand; he looked like a little lost kid. I yelled at him and I’ll never forget the look on his face. He was angry and he was scared and those feelings were directed at me. Maybe a little voice told me if I beat him to a pulp that I wouldn’t find out why he did it,” the former Marine surmised.
“And did you find the answers you were looking for?”
“Oh yeah. It turns out that the bastards who hurt Tony, had him convinced that I was too busy building my damn boat to look for him and…”
“And Anthony believed him,” Ducky finished.
“Well, yeah Duck,” Gibbs snapped. “What was he supposed to believe? They showed him a picture of me working on the boat; even had the date stamped right at the bottom. God only knows how long he was held captive and what they did to him! He needed us to find him...he needed me to find him! I should’ve done something more!”
“What else could you have done, Jethro? Every available minute you had was spent looking for that boy! You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
“Don’t I?” Gibbs challenged.
“No, you don’t,” he insisted.
“I thought I felt helpless when Tony was missing, but now that he’s back, that feeling of helplessness hasn’t gone away; if anything, it’s worse. When’s it going to end, Duck?”
There was no mistaking the frustration radiating from the agent. Tony’s return had affected them all, but none more that Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Ducky had watched the team leader as he had relentlessly pursued lead after lead, constantly running into dead ends that only served to further aggravate his friend. Anthony DiNozzo was the son that Gibbs had never had and the sheer torture of not knowing if his child was dead or alive had weighed heavily on Jethro’s mind, nearly destroying him in the process.
“You should be encouraged by the fact that Anthony is starting to remember,” the ME pointed out. “Maybe before too much longer, his memory will return and he’ll be able to fill in the blanks for us.”
He could almost see Gibbs shaking his head. “I’m not so sure that’s going to happen. I think he’s holding something back.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Part of me can’t help but wonder if we should just leave well enough alone.”
That was the last thing that Ducky had expected to come out of the team leader’s mouth. Setting his cup of tea on the antique end table, he briefly considered the possibility of Tony never fully recovering his memory. Could they accept the new Tony DiNozzo or would there always be a silent longing for the man that he used to be?
“Is that what you really think?” he pressed.
He heard Gibbs sigh. “No. But you haven’t seen what these flashbacks or whatever you want to call them, do to him.”
“I understand that you don’t like seeing him in any kind of pain, be it physical or emotional; but I assure you, Jethro, you won’t be doing him any favors by allowing him to hide behind those memories.”
“Maybe you’re right, Duck,” the team leader mumbled.
“Can I make a suggestion?” Ducky reluctantly asked. He wasn’t sure how Gibbs was going to respond to his proposition, but it wouldn’t hurt the ex-Marine to listen to what he had to say.
“What is it?”
“I am aware that Anthony will be seeing a counselor and I think that it will do him a world of good; he needs to be able to talk about his…issues with someone who can provide him with an objective view. I would also like him to consider seeing a friend of mine who is an expert in hypnotherapy; I believe that maybe it will help Tony unearth those memories that are trying to stay buried.”
“You want him to get hypnotized? I don’t know if he’ll go for that.”
“I think you may be surprised, Jethro. I think as much as we want the old Tony back, he’s starting to want the same thing.”
“I don’t know.”
Ducky could understand Gibbs’ reluctance. If Tony allowed himself to be hypnotized, then he would be vulnerable and that was a feeling that neither DiNozzo nor Gibbs particularly cherished. It would be risky, but if it tore down those walls that was preventing Anthony from remembering his past, then perhaps the risk would be worth it.
“Just think about it, Jethro,” he pleaded. “We have time and we most definitely want to wait until Tony is physically stronger. Right now, he’s still recovering from the withdrawal and he’s going to have to build up his strength.”
“I’ll think about it,” Gibbs promised.
“That’s all I ask.”
“I’ve taken enough of your time, Duck; I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Not at all, Jethro. That’s what friends are for,” he reminded the team leader. “By the way, how do you suppose Tony’s kidnappers got a picture of you working on your boat?”
“I have no idea, but I intend to find out.”
“I wonder if it was taken from the outside or the inside.”
Ducky heard the familiar pause that indicated that Gibbs was considering his remarks. “I don’t know,” the ex-Marine finally answered. “Maybe I can ask Tony later on if he remembers exactly what the picture looked like, but I’m not sure he’ll remember.”
“Another reason you should consider speaking to Tony about undergoing hypnosis.”
There was another second of silence before Gibbs replied, “Talk to you later.”
Once the connection was dead, the ME hung up his phone, a smile escaping as he realized that in all the years that he had known Jethro, this was the first time that he had ever signed off with a resemblance of a goodbye. “He must be worried.”
Ducky rose from the couch and picked up his saucer and cup and made his way towards his kitchen. Carefully placing the cup in the sink, he then headed towards his bedroom. Instead of going straight to bed, he opted for filling up his bathtub and relaxing in a nice, hot bath. His aching muscles and joints would definitely appreciate receiving the extra attention and it would help him unwind so that he could sleep better. Maybe things would look better tomorrow, or at least he hoped so; for Tony and Jethro’s sake.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Tony glanced at the clock on the nightstand for what seemed like the thousandth time. It now read 4:32 a.m.; ten minutes later than the last time he had checked. He hated the night and the darkness that was caused by the setting sun. Sleep was constantly elusive as images haunted him, turning into full fledged nightmares that would leave him completely spent. If he didn’t sleep, he didn’t dream. It was as simple as that. If only he could have a drink then he would be too drunk to care about the tortured memories that plagued him.
4:34 a.m.
Would this night ever end? He clenched and unclenched his hands that were desperate for something to do. Tony needed to keep busy so he wouldn’t have to think; if he didn’t have to think, he didn’t have to remember. The only problem with that theory was the fact that he needed to remember.
4:36 a.m.
He sat up in bed and ran his hands through his hair. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he cradled his head against them, longing for the sunlight to peek across the horizon to signal the official start of a new day. Maybe this day would be better than yesterday or maybe he would just be another day closer to hell.
4:37 a.m.
Throwing back the covers, Tony swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Clad only in his boxers, he began to pace the room, ignoring the chill of the hardwood floor against his bare feet. The lack of sleep and the anxiety that was building up inside him prompted him to wonder if Gibbs had actually poured out all the liquor in the house.
“Of course he has,” Tony muttered to himself. “He’s not stupid. He knows I can’t be trusted around the stuff, especially after I destroyed his boat. If I’d seen the bottle first, then I could about guarantee that his boat would still be in one piece.”
Tony shook his head, disgusted with his thoughts. “That’s really good, Tony. It’s not Gibbs’ fault that you have no control. Idiot!”
4:49 a.m.
He sat down on the edge of bed and stared at the floor. How could he have lost control like that? The boat obviously meant a lot to the ex-Marine and to see it lying in ruins on the basement floor had to be more than a little upsetting. Tony could remember Gibbs yelling at him, but after that, the man had showed him nothing but kindness. Why did Jethro Gibbs give a damn about him? He wasn’t worth the effort.
4:51 a.m.
Deciding he couldn’t stay in the room any longer, he pushed himself up off the bed and walked over to the closet. Pulling a pair of jeans and a hooded sweatshirt off of the hangers, he slipped them on. He then put on his socks, deciding to wait until he was out of earshot of Gibbs’ room before he slipped his shoes on. Carefully, opening the door, he peered down the hallway to make sure that the ex-Marine’s door was still closed. Why a man who lived alone would shut his door was beyond his reasoning, but Tony figured that like with everything else, Gibbs had his motives.
Making his way towards the living room without being detected, he sat down on the couch and put his tennis shoes on. He sat back against the cushion for a moment and looked around the darkened room. Tony was surprised to notice how safe he felt in this room and in this house. He had been used to sleeping on the streets or occasionally in the shelter, but he had always been forced to look over his shoulder. That particular burden had been alleviated and he had been unable to appreciate it until now.
Tony rose from the couch and headed towards the basement door. Gibbs had told him that they would clean the mess that he had created sometime today, but since he was already awake, he figured he might as well get a head start. Flicking on the light, he slowly walked down the stairs, his weary gaze taking in the destruction that lay before him.
It was hard for him to believe that he had been the one responsible for all of this damage, making him wonder why Gibbs would even want him in his home after what he had done. He reached the bottom of the steps and picked up a piece of wood that had been splintered in an obvious fit of rage.
“God, he must hate me,” he whispered to himself.
“Why would you think that, DiNozzo?”
Tony jumped at the sound of his name. He swallowed nervously as he looked up to discover Gibbs standing at the top of the stairs. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I was. Slept a few hours; probably got more sleep than you did.”
“I slept some,” he lied.
“Really?”
“I slept enough. So, what are you doing up?”
“It’s 0500.”
“And?”
“I’m always up at 0500.”
“Marines?”
“Yep.”
Tony dropped the piece of wood that he had been holding. “I couldn’t go back to…um, sleep, so I thought I’d get an early start. I don’t remember it looking this bad last night.”
“Sometimes a new day gives provides a new perspective,” Gibbs pointed out.
“I guess.”
“We can probably make a pretty good dent in cleaning it up before it’s time for breakfast.”
The young man shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
The two men began to work in companionable silence, diligently gathering pieces of lumber and putting them in a pile. At first, Tony had been content with the quietness in the room, but now it was beginning to grate on his nerves. The awkward stillness didn’t seem to bother Gibbs, but Tony figured that the older man was just better at hiding his uneasiness.
“So, who were you talking to last night?” Tony asked, finally shattering the forced silence.
“What?
“I heard you talking to someone on the phone. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop,” he quickly added. “I just heard you talking and…”
“I was talking to Ducky.”
“About me?”
Gibbs nodded. “Yeah.”
“Guess you needed to blow off a little steam after last night, huh?”
“Not exactly.”
“Oh.”
Tony continued working. He easily sensed that Gibbs was not going exactly in the mood to play twenty questions and truthfully, neither was he. He knew that he might as well get right to the heart of the matter. Gibbs was the type of man who expected honesty and Tony figured that he after destroying his boat, he deserved some kind of heartfelt apology.
“I’m uh…I just want to say I’m sorry about your…um boat. I lost control and I shouldn’t…” Tony cleared his throat. “This was a lot easier to say in my head.”
“Just spit it out, DiNozzo. We’ve never minced words before and we’re not going to start now.”
“I’m sorry and I’ll do whatever it takes to pay for the lumber to reimburse you. I know that I can’t give you back the hours and the sweat that you put into building it, but…”
The team leader grinned at him, completely derailing his train of thought. “That’s where your wrong, DiNozzo,” Gibbs stated. “I’m going to rebuild this boat, but you’re going to help me.”
“I don’t know anything about building a boat.”
“Then it’s time you learned. You need an outlet for your anger besides drinking and I’m providing that.”
Tony’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t have to do this. Building something like this is something that you share with your kid, not a loser like me.”
He took a step back as Gibbs straightened to his full height. “I don’t want to hear you say that ever again. We are going to build this boat together. End of discussion. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yeah,” Tony muttered.
He tried not to flinch when Gibbs reached out gently squeezed his shoulder, but he was unsuccessful in hiding his discomfort. Tony was still attempting to accept the fact that he was around people who didn’t want to hurt him. Gibbs and the others were going out of their way to demonstrate how much they cared for him and he was still unable to reciprocate their feelings.
“I’m going to go up and start breakfast. Go on and take a shower,” the team leader instructed. “Food should be ready in 20 minutes.”
Tony followed Gibbs up the stairs, sparing one final glance over his shoulder at the now empty space where they would build the next boat. The former Marine had to be crazy to want his help; he figured that it wouldn’t take long before Gibbs regretted his decision. He cut off the light at the top of the stairs and closed the door behind him, before heading back to his room.
He picked out a clean shirt and a pair of pants and headed towards the bathroom. Reaching inside the shower stall, he turned the hot water on and then quickly stripped. Tony stepped into the shower and began to wet down his aching body. The doctors said that he would be sore as an after effect of the withdrawal, but the manual labor that he had performed this morning had not helped matters any.
Lathering up his hair, he marveled at how good the water felt as it flowed over his body. As he rinsed his hair, he fingered the long strands, wondering when was the last time that he had taken the time to get a real haircut. He leaned against the wall, as another memory began to cast unwanted images upon his mind. Intertwining his fingers in the dark locks, he began pulling his hair, hoping that the pain would stop the assault on his mind.
After a few seconds, he breathed a sigh of relief at his ability to keep those memories at bay. He couldn’t afford to lose control again. He grabbed his washcloth and quickly washed his body, cursing at allowing himself for losing track of time; the last thing he wanted was for Gibbs to come looking for him. Within a couple of minutes, he was out of the shower and completely dressed.
He opened the bathroom door to discover Abby standing outside, poised to knock. “Abby? What are you doing here?”
“I came to have breakfast with you and to go with you to your doctor’s appointment,” she explained with unbridled enthusiasm.
“I thought Gibbs was taking me.”
“He is, but I’m going too.”
Tony’s cheeks flushed slightly. “Abby, you don’t have to do that.”
“Of course I do. Because when you’re done at the hospital, you and I are going to my favorite tattoo parlor and you’re going to get that tattoo you want.”
“Is Gibbs coming with us?” he asked.
“Nope. It’s going to just be you and me.”
Tony nodded. He genuinely liked being around Abby; she never expected more out of him that he was willing to give. “Sounds like fun.”
“Well come on, let’s get going.” She grabbed his hand and led him toward the kitchen. The scent of bacon and eggs made him appreciate the fact that he was actually hungry for the first time in a long time. He sat down in the chair that Abby pulled out for him and studied the pills on his plate.
“Mainly vitamins,” Gibbs stated. “Doctor Cole prescribed them to help build back up your system. Alcohol messes you up all the way around.”
“No kidding,” he sighed as he picked up the pills and swallowed them dry.
“I don’t know how you do that,” Abby said.
Tony smiled at the Goth as Gibbs filled his plate with food. It had been a while since he had eaten a home cooked meal and was looking forward to savoring it. The trio sat and ate together, the two men mainly content to listen as Abby told about the latest escapades of her bowling nuns.
By 7:30, breakfast was done and the dishes were washed and put away. He listened as Abby unsuccessfully tried to convince Gibbs of the necessity of having a dishwasher. “Really Gibbs,” she said. “You need to move into the 21st century.”
“Made it this long without one; I don’t see why I need one now,” he grumbled.
“You’re hopeless, Gibbs. Absolutely hopeless.”
“I know.”
Tony smiled as he took his jacket from Abby. “You might as well give it up, Abs.”
The Goth threw her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug. Stunned, he pulled away, “What was that for?”
“You called me Abs!” she cheerfully replied, as if that was the only answer he should need.
Tony wasn’t sure what to say so he merely nodded and walked out the door that Gibbs had just opened. Relieved that the ex-Marine had provided him a way out of what could have been an awkward situation, he made his way towards the car. He didn’t know why he had called Abby, ‘Abs’; it had just seemed to naturally flow off of his tongue.
He sat in the front passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt while Gibbs and Abby got themselves situated. As Gibbs was pulling out onto the street, Abby handed him her phone.
“I’ve downloaded some of the tattoos that I thought you might like,” she informed him. “The guy that does mine is an absolute genius, so no matter what you pick, it will look great.”
She quickly showed him how to scroll through the pictures and then sat back and buckled herself in. He glanced over at Gibbs as the older man looked in his review mirror and smiled at Abby. Tony was truly grateful for the distraction; at least he could think about something else besides his upcoming doctor’s visit.
Scrolling through the pictures, he tried to imagine the different tattoos on various places on his body. About five minutes later, he knew which one he wanted.
Turning around, he showed it to Abby. “What do you think of this one?”
She nodded her approval, gracing him with an alluring smile and wink. “Perfect!”
Tony turned around; his mind more at ease than it had been in a while. Now, if he could get through the next couple of hours, he could relax and enjoy spending some time with Abby. Maybe with her help, he would learn to like the Tony DiNozzo that he was supposed to be; of course, he couldn’t help but wonder if the old Tony would even have a tattoo. It didn’t matter. He was going to get the tattoo that he had always wanted.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.