Walking into his apartment for the first time in over a day and a half, Tony stopped to take a breath, his senses unconsciously recording the smell and feel of his home. Reaching behind his body, he flicked the deadbolt on his door. The snick of the lock sliding into place made him flinch as his mind replayed the sound of the holding cell bars sliding closed.
Self-disgust rose momentarily as he grumbled. “Reality check " you aren’t there anymore, DiNozzo.”
He moved forward, performing his home-from-work tasks by rote. Keys and cell phone were dropped carelessly onto the hall table; shoes toed off to haphazardly lie next to a table leg. Walking behind his sofa, he shrugged out of the suit jacket he’d worn for too long and watched it fall over the tall back cushions. Adrenaline oozing out, he sagged a bit against the furniture, knowing its sturdy frame would support his weight. He hadn’t had that feeling in several days and his joints and muscles were unbelievably tense from a strain he hadn’t acknowledged. He let his head drop to his chest and concentrated on breathing slowly. His body leaned heavier into the solid frame as he felt his spine seemingly uncurl one vertebra at a time, shoulders lowering and uncurling as the tightness in those muscles eased minutely. Shaking himself back to awareness as he realized his vision had grayed to a single point on his carpet; Tony steadied himself by grasping the back of the sofa until he felt with it enough to continue to his destination.
Taking a few deep breaths at first, Tony then moved down the hall, fingers absently working over the buttons of his dress shirt. He shook his head in surprise as he realized he’d managed to completely undo them. Sighing deeply yet again, he let the shirt fall to the floor just outside the door to his bathroom. Padding thru the doorway, he hit the light switch on the wall, flooding the room with too bright light. Squinting, his fingers scrabbled to find the dimmer knob he’d installed shortly after moving in to the unit.
Light adjusted more to his preference, Tony walked over to the bathtub, sliding the curtain across the curved the rod to enclose the area and moving the levers, starting the stream of water from the showerhead. He turned towards the large mirror over the sink, critically eyeing the body in the reflection staring back at him.
He snorted quietly. ‘Isn’t a mark or even a scratch visible, yet this time I feel almost as bad as when I had the plague.’
Turning away from a view he no longer wished to see, he efficiently removed his pants, underwear and socks, nudging them towards the waiting hamper with a toe. He’d deal with them later, when bending down to pick them up didn’t invoke a groan. Tony stepped past the curtain and into the tub, jerking a bit as the heavy stream of hot water struck his chilled skin. Slowly he inched further into the stream as his skin grew accustomed to the temperature. After standing near motionless for several minutes, Tony reached up towards the shower head and flipped a dial to change the setting. The already strong water stream began to pulse and he turned his back to it, stepping further into the force of the water.
Tony remained in the shower, just standing under the spray until the temperature began to cool. Reluctantly he turned and turned the levers, ending the flow. He pulled the back the curtain and reached to grab a towel from the nearby shelf that was mounted on his wall. A high pressure, large shower head and thick towels had been the luxury purchases he’d made for this room. There were other things he’d thought about buying such as a heated towel rack but figured none of them were really necessities so he could put them off a while longer and concentrate on other things.
He took a minute to dry off in the tub before knotting the towel around his waist and stepping out. The mirror was still steamed over but Tony didn’t care. He really wasn’t as much of an appearance hog as many thought he was. Turning and walking out of the room, he crossed the small hallway into the master bedroom.
The room held another feature that had helped convince Tony to sign a lease when he saw the unit. Newly-remodeled when he’d toured it, the room was large with a block of three windows on one wall and a walk-in closet that, once he’d installed the organizer system, gave him a place for his clothes as well as extra storage. He entered the closet and soon emerged wearing an old pair of sweats and t-shirt. He’d leaned in to grab a pair of socks before shutting the door and sat in the nearby recliner to put them on. Tonight was all about physical comfort and he was grateful to have had nothing planned prior to their latest case.
He walked back into the main living area and flipped the switch on the gas fireplace. Moving into the kitchen, he opened the fridge. He wasn’t really hungry but knew he needed to eat. Pulling out a pizza box that had been delivered two nights prior, he tossed a couple of slices on a plate and heated them in the microwave. Reaching into the fridge again, he groped around until he pulled out a bottle of beer, twisting off the cap and taking a drink as the microwave beeped at him. He collected the plate and took both plate and bottle into the living room.
Tony placed his dinner on the nearby coffee table and contemplated popping a movie into his DVD player but decided that he preferred the silence to excess noise. He’d just picked up the pizza and was ready to take a bite of the gooey meal when the smell of it assaulted his senses. His mind flashed back to the last time the scent of his favorite toppings had filled his nostrils " just the other evening when Gibbs had come down to Fornell’s holding cell, bringing him dinner and then being forced to listen to Tony nearly lose it as he babbled, revealing more than the other man needed to know about his insecurities and fears. He dropped the pizza back on its plate and glared at the beer bottle almost willing it to disappear before collapsing back against the sofa.
Tony closed his eyes, bringing his palms up to press against the sockets as if warding off a headache that hadn’t developed yet. His hunger had vanished although it hadn’t really been there to begin with. He’d been planning on eating because he knew that Ducky would eventually lecture him for the downward spiral in his eating habits. Finally having gotten control of the turbulence inside, he rose and carried the plate and bottle back to the kitchen, depositing them on the counter to deal with later. Tony ignored the fact that he wasn’t even remotely tired and flicked off the light switch and then the fireplace as he walked towards his bedroom. He glanced at his watch, smiling slightly as he realized that his nanny used to put him to bed this early when he’d been bad. He shed his shirt and socks before sliding in between his sheets, figuring that he had to have a lot of sleep to catch up on.
Meanwhile in a different house in a more family oriented neighborhood, Leroy Jethro Gibbs sat amidst his hand tools and partially completed boat in his basement. A mason jar partly filled with bourbon dangled from his fingertips nearly forgotten as he stared almost unseeing at the boat. He’d come down to the basement after changing out of his office clothes hoping to find the refuge that he normally found. But instead, in the quiet and alone with his thoughts, he found his mind constantly replaying the monologue he’d heard when he’d gong to take DiNozzo the pizza.
For a man who acted like his life was an open book to be read by everyone, Tony, in fact, had as many secrets as Gibbs did. Why he found that surprising he wasn’t sure. But Gibbs knew he’d been surprised and disturbed by all Tony had revealed about his past. Gibbs was also quite angry with himself for not anticipating the reaction to being locked in the FBI holding cell while the rest of the team figured out who had set him up. Despite his carefully cultivated, brainless image, DiNozzo was anything but and having to sit on the sidelines when the outcome of the case would have a personal effect on his life had pushed his senior field agent past the brink of tolerance. He’d unloaded more on Gibbs than he ever did during their time alone together.
And that thought fueled more irritation inside him. On a night when each man should have needed the other, both Gibbs and Tony had agreed to stick to their normal pattern and spend the evening in their own homes. Now, sitting alone in the chilly, quiet basement, Gibbs wondered how Tony was doing. He’d acted normally after he’d returned to the Navy yard; had even been right behind Gibbs as the puzzle pieces had finally fallen into place and the team raced downstairs to Abby. But Gibbs had known what the cost of the whole escapade would be for Tony. He’d wanted to suggest that they forego their routine and spend the remainder of the evening together.
But Tony had been ready to leave before Gibbs was done with all of the paperwork. Having been the suspect in the case, there had been no report or other paperwork for DiNozzo to complete so he’d been charged with seeing to Abby while the others processed Chip and completed paperwork. DiNozzo had been gone by the time Gibbs had time to return to the lab and Abby was much calmer as she walked around talking to her machines as if they were her children. She’d given him a hug, her non-verbal way of thanking him for making sure Tony was free and keeping her safe. He’d been about to ask where DiNozzo was when Abby had said that she’d already sent him off on his way because he’d looked exhausted to her and that he’d smiled and asked her to tell Gibbs that he’d see him the next day as planned.
Gibbs smiled as he thought about Abby’s excitement over knowing that her two favorite guys had plans for the holiday. He’d tried to convince her that it wasn’t a big deal but she’d hear nothing of it. Fortunately she’d also realized that she needed to get home to the cranberry recipe she’d promised to make for her own dinner so their conversation hadn’t moved to the endless amount of questions he knew she’d been dying to pepper him with.
He’d been so tempted to detour to Tony’s place on his way home and had tightened his grasp of the steering wheel to avoid turning in that direction and continuing to his own neighborhood. He’d done his normal routine once he’d reached his home but was still unsettled and restless. He knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate enough to work on his boat so had opted for bourbon instead. Resolutely pushing all thought from his mind, Gibbs downed his drink and poured another one. He’d see Tony tomorrow and prove to himself that he was ok and had no new scars, psychologically or emotionally, from the frame up.
***
Sleep wasn’t his friend " that shouldn’t have been a surprise. After all, didn’t most therapists say that either a person was able to hide from the world or their lives in sleep or one’s demons tended to come out in force during sleep? Tony figured he was one of the unlucky ones since his dreams were vivid recreations come to life to haunt him. He’d gone to bed with the slight hope that he was too tired to dream. Too tired for the images of his mind to come to life and torment him. He should have known better.
Tony had fallen asleep lying on his side, facing the other, currently empty part of the bed. At some time during the night, he’d rolled more onto his stomach, with his legs spread a little " much the way he slept when Gibbs spent the night. Yet his slumber appeared to be neither peaceful nor restful. His legs intermittently twitched and moved as if he was attempting to escape something or someone. Before long, his head was also twitching and his eyes darting behind still closed lids as if he was trying to ward off a dream.
The images were, in fact, darting through his subconscious like a strobe light. Images from childhood, memories that he normally preferred to forget but had been brought back after his self-incriminating monologue to Gibbs. Much like a spectator watching a play, Tony saw himself dressed in the dreaded sailor suit being trotted out for his mother’s fancy, high-society friends. He saw himself standing at the side of his father’s desk, being ordered yet again to be more concise and factual in his daily reports as he was simultaneously reminded how to pour the drink his father preferred. He remembered how he felt that first morning when his father had woken him before dawn, surprising him with instructions to dress quickly and meet him downstairs so they wouldn’t be late. His elation over setting out on, what his mind thought was, a father-son outing, only to be crushed on learning he was going to act as the bucket boy for a Civil War reenactment his father sometimes participated in. He again felt his grief and pain over the death of his mother, his excitement at finding out he was accompanying his father on a business trip to Hawaii, and his shock over being forgotten and left to fend for himself in the hotel room, even after Daddy Dearest had checked out.
Tony never heard the little noise he emitted as his legs continued to move, as if searching for an escape. His subconscious mind continued to supply a variety of images that reinforced the emotional torment he’d felt in the holding cell. He heard his own voice, repeating what he’d said during his self cross-examination. Heard an unknown voice announce that the defendant had been found guilty as charged, saw a gavel pound on wood and felt the clang of metal as a heavy prison door slid closed for the last time. Hands scrabbling as if to find cover from an unknown threat, Tony instinctively burrowed under a pillow, appearing as if he wanted to meld with the sheets on his bed.
***
Drawn out of sleep, Tony opened his eyes, raising his head to peer around the night-blackened room to locate the reason he was awake. Although his eyes were unable to penetrate the darkness, his senses weren’t picking up on anything that he would consider a threat. His head dropped back to the pillow, eyes barely open. He was so tired that seeing the numbers on his alarm clock clearly wasn’t even possible. At least it was still dark " a sure sign that he didn’t have to get up yet. If he felt this bad come morning, he couldn’t see how he would be able to make it in to the Yard and actually be functional. His hand reached out blindly, feeling, groping the chilled sheets next to him before stilling for a few seconds. His hand moved again, fingers obviously searching for something before settling on the edge of the other pillowcase. The pillow was tugged until it moved to where it was lying vertical and Tony rolled into it, inhaling different parts of it until he found the scent he’d been seeking. Hugging the pillow even closer, he buried his nose deeper into it and let the scent take him back into slumber.
***
When Tony next became aware of his surroundings, it was definitely lighter in the bedroom. His eyes popped open and his arm muscles tensed around the pillow he was still holding to his chest. There’d definitely been a noise, probably coming from his kitchen. He couldn’t remember whether or not he’d locked his door. He usually did " it had been an ingrained habit that not even Gibbs could break. Sliding out of bed and grabbing a nearby pair of sweats to slip on, Tony silently cursed himself for not bringing his weapon into the bedroom with him. It wasn’t something he usually worried about since Gibbs usually had one of his guns nearby. He opened the bedroom door that he really didn’t remember shutting and moved out into the hall, trying to be quiet yet still find something he could use as a weapon against his intruder.
Hugging the wall while he walked towards the kitchen, Tony was overwhelmed by a scent that made his mouth water and eased the tension in his muscles. He’d become used to the smell of very strong coffee over the last year or so. He wasn’t as addicted to it as Gibbs was and still couldn’t stand the taste of it unless he’d doctored it with healthy amounts of cream of sugar. But the day was no longer complete unless he had a few cups and it was even better when Gibbs was around to share the first cup with him.
He moved away from the wall and tried to appear more natural as he neared the kitchen, assured now that his visitor was more than welcomed. Coming to a stop just before he walked into the room, Tony could only stare at the sight in front of him. Gibbs was dressed casually, a few notches down from what he normally wore to the office but still more put together than he usually was when he planned on spending a day at home. But then again Tony didn’t have a boat in the basement for him to absorb himself with for hours on end getting dusty. Gibbs was leaning down in front of the open oven door, adjusting something that Tony couldn’t quite see.
As Gibbs straightened and shut the oven door, he moved over to the coffee pot and poured the brew into a cup that had been sitting empty for too long.
“Thought you were going to sleep the day away, Tony.”
“It’s not that late, is it?”
Tony took the mug from Gibbs and was now at the table doctoring the brew to his tastes. He caught the soft snort and paused to turn towards the clock on the microwave.
“No way! How can it be two in the afternoon already?!”
“Guess you were more tired than you thought, Tony.” Gibbs stared at the dark circles that were still present under his eyes, thinking about how restless the other man had been when he’d first entered the apartment and gone to find his lover. Standing at the bedroom door staring at the body that had been so tightly curled around the pillow that he normally used when he slept over, Gibbs had wanted to crawl in next to Tony and give in to the need to reassure himself that it was all over and Tony was free and cleared.
Tony didn’t answer, choosing instead to sniff the contents of the mug before taking a cautious sip.
“So what’s in the oven? Going all domestic on me?”
“Maybe…although if I was, I could easily have done it in my own kitchen.”
Caught taking a deep drink of coffee, he was barely able to control the snort that fought to burst free, not wanting to decorate the room with the warm beverage. “Ya think, huh?”
“Nothing wrong with it, DiNozzo!”
“Of course not, Boss. It’s an absolutely functional room " if we still lived on Walton’s mountain, of course.”
For once, the older pop culture reference was not lost on Gibbs, but the heat of the glare that he turned on Tony was not as fierce as he’d expected. He already knew what his lover was up to and had expected it. He’d known how rattled Tony was by the whole accusation and incarceration when he’d brought the pizza over to him. Had expected some sort of outburst although not exactly the one that he’d received. He’d suspected that a large part of Tony’s past hadn’t been the normal childhood walk in the park but he’d still been saddened by the details the man had allowed to slip free in his agitation. Rolling his eyes, Gibbs offered no retort and moved to refill his coffee cup before getting yet another pot brewing.
“So, do you actually plan on eating breakfast? Or do you want to wait an hour or so and dig in to the main meal?” He asked as he nodded towards the stove.
“You mean I actually have to wait *that* long? Maybe I want to skip all the formalities and jump right to the good stuff?”
Gibbs turned around and caught the leer before Tony managed to compose his face again. He had no doubt that the expression had been on purpose. He didn’t really want to pull the second B out but figured he needed to do something to get through to Tony.
“Cut it out, DiNozzo. Thought we agreed that today we were going to actually be real with each other instead of keeping up the act.”
Startled, Tony looked away. He knew what Gibbs meant, but after the last couple of days and all that he’d revealed in that cell plus the dream he’d had, he just wasn’t sure he knew what was real anymore. He felt too vulnerable and exposed, so as was the norm, he’d fallen back on the masks that were such a comfort because they felt like a second skin. He’d spent years developing an image, a persona that could stand alone with few cracks visible. Of course, it helped that the persona also managed to piss off anyone who was interested in more than just a casual relationship with him. He’d thought he never wanted anything more than that. Until he met Gibbs anyway.
Now the masks were still a part of his everyday life but Tony knew that there was someone nearby who saw through them much in the same way he saw through Gibbs’ masks. At the office, the masks were firmly in place, minutely slipping on few occasions, like when Kate was killed, but Tony figured that was to be expected.
Tony flinched when he felt fingers brushing over his jaw and turning his head. He hated that he’d been deep enough in thought to not hear Gibbs moving closer. Fingers pressured his chin until he turned his head, meeting the blue eyes.
“It’s over, Tony. Chip’s behind bars, not you.”
“Felt too close, Jethro. And there wasn’t anything I could do about it either.”
“Wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.”
“Got that. But not everything is under your control.”
Gibbs huffed a little but made no reply. Contrary to what many believed, he really could be patient when necessary. Tony looked away, unable to maintain eye contact.
“C’mere.” The single word, although quietly spoken, was undoubtedly an order.
Muscles tensely locked at first, Tony turned fully towards Gibbs. Knowing that both of them were normally far too stubborn to let go of their self-control, Gibbs decided that this time he needed to be the one who reacted and reached out to pull Tony closer.
“Tell me.”
Allowing his forehead to lean against Gibbs’ shoulder, Tony replied. “Tell you what?”
“Why your eyes look as haunted as they do.”
“You ask me this after everything I said the other day?”
“Yeah, what part is bothering you?” Gibbs paused to force Tony to look at him, something the other man did reluctantly.
“Look, I know you know, but that doesn’t mean I like to throw stuff like that out there in conversation.”
Gibbs quirked an eyebrow at him.
“You know what I mean, Jethro. The little snippets here and then are nothing compared to what I unloaded on you. Not to mention what the feebs now have on tape.”
“Told you Fornell made sure the cameras were off as much as possible.”
“Yeah, and what are we going to owe him for that?”
Gibbs sighed, turned around and flipped the oven’s temperature dial down as low as it would go before turning back to Tony. “Let’s go,” he said as he turned him around and gave him a gentle push.
“What? To where?”
“Back there. *You* need to relax and I know just how.”
Gibbs waved in the general direction of the bedroom, which naturally gained him a leer from DiNozzo.
“Didn’t mean that way either.” He replied as he ignored the expected, fake pout from his lover.
Once they moved into the bedroom, Gibbs got Tony to lie down on his stomach. He then straddled him, slowly massaging the tension out of the tight muscles with oil he’d grabbed from the nightstand drawer. Running his hands over Tony’s back and pausing to work out the knots he found, Gibbs used the quiet to finally allow himself to process everything that had happened the last couple of days. He’d been sure of Tony’s innocence from the very start but the amount of forensic evidence that had been building against his lover had worried him. The frame had been constructed by someone who’d known what they were doing which was why he’d been relieved when Sheppard had called Fornell. Bastard that he was, Tobias understood both of them and had done everything in his power this time out to make sure the case ended the way it had. He’d have to make sure the man got a bottle of that rotgut he called liquor after the weekend was over.
Tony’s voice caught his attention. “So much in my head last night, Jethro.”
“Yeah, like what?”
“Images from the past mostly.”
“Except…?”
Tony sighed and Gibbs moved to lie down beside him, forcing the other man to face him. He needed Tony to look at him at this point since the other man was just as much a master of deflection as he was.
“A lot of what ifs. Guess my brain wouldn’t let go of what could have happened.”
The memory of hearing the clang of the cell door replayed in his mind along with a brief flash of seeing himself being led into an execution room. He couldn’t stop the shudder that moved through his body.
“Would never have happened.”
“Yeah, know that.”
Unspoken was the thought that some times what they knew was over powered by their own personal demons. It didn’t need to be said. Much in the same way that both knew how much they had to be thankful for on this particular holiday.
“Love you, Jethro.”
“Love you too, Tony.”
The food keeping warm in the oven would wait for later. For now, both men needed to take the time and reaffirm their connection and bond.
Story Notes:
This was written at the request of a friend who also picked the episode.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gibbs & DiNozzo deal with the ramifications of Chip's actions both separately & together.
Chapter End Notes:
This was written at the request of a friend who also picked the episode.