Through the Years: Eighteen
by Matt51
Interstate 95 in Virginia, from Manassa to Richmond, was a jewel of a drive for anyone but especially so if the person behind the wheel of the vehicle had a full tank of gas, a couple of very good friends to ride along for companionship, and was still young enough to consider the one-hundred and eighty mile round-trip trek to be nothing more than a quick outing on a bright summer morning. And it was the start of a truly beautiful day: temperatures were predicted to climb only to the mid-seventies, a light, delightful breeze was coming in from the west, and hardly a cloud dared to appear across the brilliant blue of the sky. For the three teenagers from Manassas, this was the beginning of another day they could spend in each other's company and that made it just about perfect.
Behind the wheel of the old, green Jeep Cherokee he'd been driving since getting his license a couple of years ago, Tony DiNozzo cast a swift, dazzling smile toward the girl sitting in the front seat beside him and laughed as she pulled the neckline of her shirt up to cover her mouth and nose with one hand while hastily rolling the window down on her side with the other. He knew what was coming his way, so he, too, began to lower his own window as well, catching the eyes of the passenger occupying the backseat in the rearview mirror as he did.
"Damn it, Josh," he gasped when the foul odor finally drifted into his space but couldn't contain the laughter that accompanied his words, "what in the hell did you have to eat last night? It smells like something crawled up in there and died!"
"My farts don't stink," Josh Fitchetola pouted as he sprawled across the back seat, the sudden wind from the open windows playing havoc with his brown hair. He reached forward and snatched the ball cap from Tony's head and place it on his own, making sure all the wayward strands were tucked securely away from his face. "You guys just like to blow things all out of porportion to try and make me feel bad."
"Oh, yeah, that's right," Cat McMillian scoffed, face still partially covered by her shirt, and turned just enough in her seat to glance back at him, "like we don't have anything better to do with our time than to sit around trying and come up with ways to harass you. What I'd like to know, Josh, is what you're planning to do when you get to school next month? I hope you have some kind of back-up arrangement because, the first time you spew something like that, your new roommate is going to toss you right out!"
"Well, hopefully, I'll be paired up with someone who's got a more honest nose than either of you two," Josh huffed and nervously adjusted the cap, rotating it until it was resting backward on his head, the bill against his neck. The teen let his eyes wander out to watch the rapidly passing scenery, his expression changing quickly from playfulness to something more serious and solemn. He cleared his throat timidly before speaking again. "You know, it's going to be real strange not having you guys there with me this year."
Tony and Cat exchanged a swift, concerned look. From the sudden somber tone of his voice, the two teens in the front seat immediately knew something was amiss. It wasn't often Josh displayed any sign of uncertainty or insecurity in front of them and, when he did, it was because of some deep-seated anxiety.
"What's going on, Josh?" Tony asked calmly, green eyes darting back and forth from the road spread before him to the reflection in the rearview mirror. He saw his friend shrug but refuse to meet his gaze. "Come on, man. What's going on?"
"You'll just laugh at me," came the mumbled reply.
Cat turned slightly so she could see Josh more clearly, bringing a leg up to rest in the seat and angling the knee toward Tony. She frowned as she recognized the dejected way he was slouched down in the seat.
"We won't laugh, Josh. You should know Tony and I better than that by now."
Josh hesitated but finally raised his eyes to meet her worried gaze. "Everything's going to change, Cat. I'm leaving home to start my first year of college, you and Tony are going to begin your last year of high school, and, by the time Thanksgiving break rolls around and I finally get the chance to come home for a visit, nothing will be the same between us."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Tony frowned, not comprehending Josh's fear. He took a moment to raise his window a little more than half-way, wanting to make sure he'd be able to hear his friend's explanation. "Why won't it be the same?"
Ignoring Tony's questions, Josh continued to hold Cat's gaze, looking deeply into her eyes. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"
Cat stared at him for a moment longer and then nodded, releasing a heavy sigh. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do."
"What?" Tony was even more confused, the cryptic communication between his friends making him tense and irritable. He took one hand from the steering wheel and placed it on Cat's leg, squeezing gently. "What do you know that I don't?"
The girl eased back until she was quiescent against the padded seat and began to chew thoughtfully on her bottom lip. She covered Tony's hand with one of her own and let their fingers entwine, returning the soft pressure she was receiving.
"A few years ago," she began softly, her eyes on some distant spot out the windshield, "my cousin Jennifer went away to college. She'd been best friends with a girl she graduated with from high school and, when they got back together during Jennifer's first break from school, they found out they no longer had anything in common...or, at least, not enough things to keep their friendship active. Jennifer had made new friends in her dorm and in her classes and had finally gotten a real taste of what it was like being away from home and on her own for awhile. She just didn't enjoy doing the 'same old stuff' at home like she use to when she was in high school."
"She changed that much in just two months?" Tony was, frankly, astounded. With most schools usually starting in late August or early September and Thankgiving break occurring at the end of November, he just couldn't imaging Cat's cousin doing that much changing in such a short amount of time. "So, you think Josh is going to change...that he's going to 'outgrow' us? Is that it?"
"It's not just the person who goes away, Tony. Jennifer's friend changed, too. She met new people at the school she attended, even pledged a sorority, and started acting differently. Priorities shifted. They just didn't look at each other the same way ever again. Maybe things would have been different if they'd gone to the same college, I don't know. All I do know is after they got together during that first break, they never got back together again."
"Well, fuck," Josh muttered miserably from the back seat.
"Look, that's bullshit," Tony had heard enough of this nonsense. "There's not going to be any 'changing' going on for any of us. Josh is just getting a jump start on us this year but we'll catch up when we get to OSU next year. He's just paving the way, clearing the field, taking care of..."
"No," Josh gritted out, trying not to offend his friends but not seeing too many other options available. He took a deep breath and tried again. "I don't think you really understand what I'm talking about here. You guys will still be together and I'll be by myself in Columbus for a whole year. Yes, I'll come home during vacations when I'm able but it's not going to be the same. Things change and so do people, Tony, whether you want to believe it or not."
"So, what you're saying is you're *planning* on changing. Is that it?" Tony's voice now held an angry, hard edge and he refused to look into the rearview mirror, opting to keep his eyes focused on the road instead. "You've already made up your mind things are going to be different between us without even waiting to see what happens. You're going to pledge some fraternity, become brothers with a bunch of strangers, start dating the rich sorority babes, and just conveniently wipe us from your memory. Am I right? Is that your plan?"
Josh was immediately out of his shoulder restraint and pressing up against the back of Tony's seat, long arms reaching over and around to hold the surprised driver as firm as the position would allow. His large hands pressed tightly against Tony's body, one low across the stomach and the other directly over the rapidly beating heart.
"Don't you ever, *ever*, say something to me like that again!" He hissed hotly into Tony's right ear, his own anger transforming his usually kind features into something alien. "I love you both more than I can ever tell you and it kills me to hear you say things like that. I would never throw away what we have now. I'll never have any friends like you and Cat in my life again. Do you understand? Do you?"
And both Tony and Cat understood...because they felt exactly the same.
Companions since early in their high school days, the three teens had become much more than casual friends to each other because of that fateful evening in the DiNozzo home, when Josh had, quite literally, taken Tony in hand and demonstarted the finer points of male erection and ejaculation to a very curious Cat. From that moment on, their usual 'scary movie night' had evolved. Inhibitions melted away, friendly touches transformed into intimate caresses, and they found they could do or say just about anything to each other without repercussions. Experimentation occurred many times, in many places, between Cat and the boys but, also, between the boys themselves. They slowly learned and recognized erogenous zones and hot spots and began giving and taking pleasure in ways usually reserved for those more mature and involved in a committed relationships. Oral sex and mutual masturbation took place frequently, as did brief forays into some of the kinkier aspects of sexual gratification, but never once did they cross the line into actual intercourse, vaginal or anal. Fingers and tongues took the place of willing penises, as did the occassional dildo or vibrator, but they managed to remain true to their initial pledge to keep intercourse out of the equation, thinking it would be easier for them to cease their activities when the time came for one or more of them to leave the trio.
Like now. Josh would be gone in just a few short weeks and, regardless of what they all hoped, nothing would ever really be the same for them again.
Tony slowly released Cat's fingers and placed his palm over the warm hand on his chest, feeling Josh's grip tighten against the thin fabric of his shirt. "I know, Josh, and I'm so sorry for saying what I did. I really do know how you feel. It's just, this whole situation sucks!" He sighed loudly in frustration. "I should be happy for you, I should be glad you're getting this chance. Hell, you're going to be playing football for the Buckeyes!"
"And you'll be right there with me next year," Josh stressed urgently and then shifted his eyes quickly to the other occupant. "And you'll be there, too, Cat. I just...I just don't want you guys to forget me while I'm gone. When it's just the two of you here...alone...you'll be more tempted to do...stuff."
"Stuff?" Cat questioned, even though she knew exactly what Josh was inferring. He wasn't going to get away with it that easily. "Could you possibly be any more vague?"
"Damn it," he huffed, resting his forehead on the seat and refusing to meet her eyes, "you know what I'm talking about. As soon as I'm out of here, you two will have your clothes off and will be doing everything to each other. *Everything*."
The miserable tone of his voice made Cat smile fondly. She glanced at Tony's profile and watched him shake his head in disbelief.
"That's what this is all about?" Tony was suddenly mad again, his fingers tightening painfully on Josh's. "You think the minute you're gone, Cat and I are going to break our promise and have intercourse? Is that it?"
Josh mumbled something unintelligible but never raised his head. Tony tightened his grip even more and got his attention.
"Ow..." Josh offered lamely, head still down.
"Ow, your ass," Tony snorted and released his hold. "You know, for someone who's smart, you sure can really be a big, dumb jock sometimes, Fitchetola."
"Look," Cat cut in quickly, "we all knew this day would come sooner or later. We all knew one of us would find 'that someone special' or move away or whatever. That's why we drew the line where we did." She carefully eyed the two males in the vehicle and tried to find something to deflect the tension. Smirking to herself, she knew of one sure-fire way to successfully redirect their thoughts. "Although, I was still hoping one of you would, eventually, be my first."
Josh's head shot up off the seat and Tony was already slowing the vehicle, indicator flashing and preparing to pull over into the service lane, the huge grins on both faces identifying their thoughts. Josh comically started patting down his pocket.
"I didn't bring any condoms. Did you, Tony?" He asked, joking playfully as he saw the smile on his friend's face.
"No," Tony replied strangely, letting his eyes drift toward the glove compartment directly in front of Cat, "but I think there's an old plastic ziplock baggy in there somewhere...we can take turns using it. That okay with you, Cat?"
"You shitheads," Cat grinned, thankful to see the gloomy mood evaporating and, ineffectively, began slapping at the male hands trying to envade her personal space. She watched as Tony cast a quick look over his shoulder, checked the mirrors, and eased back onto the road, happy for the lightness of the traffic. She continued to pretend she was offended. "I don't know why I put up with the both of you like I do. Sex, sex, sex...that's all you guys ever think about. I swear, you act just like a couple of horny, teenage boys." Pause. "Oh, wait...you *are* horny, teenage boys!"
The trio laughed at the absurdity of using a plastic baggy as a condom but sobered enough to continue their original converstaion with a little more logic. Leaving home to attend college was a milestone for any young person and, whether they liked it or not, changes were going to occur in their relationship with each other. But, like most things in life, change didn't necessarily have to be negitive: with change came growth and maturity, a chance to go new places, see new things, meet new people, and to finally consider individual roles in society.
They talked all the way to Richmond and, as Tony pulled into the parking lot of the sporting goods store he'd been directed to go to, they agreed to put a hold on the discussion until the ride home. They were here, after all, to do a job for Gunny...well, Tony was...and they needed to focus on it instead. Today was Diane Gibbs' thirtieth birthday and, because Gunny was deployed at sea on an assignment for NCIS, he'd asked Tony to drive to Richmond, pick up the set of secially-ordered, pre-payed golf clubs for his wife, and deliver them, along with his birthday card, to their new home in the area. Diane would be at work when the teens arrived, so it was a simple matter of locating the hidden spare key, putting the clubs in the master bedroom, and placing the birthday card where the woman would see it upon entering. Surprise!
"I'll be just a few minutes," Tony said to the passengers as he put the SUV into park and undid his seatbelt, taking a moment to cast a wary eye at them before exiting. "That plastic baggy better not be used when I get back."
"Tony!" Cat warned and took a swing at him with one fist, missing as he easily slipped out.
Josh and Cat watched their friend walk away, laughing to himself all the way to the front doors of the store. When he'd gone in, Josh slid forward and rested his head next to Cat's.
"Don't let things change, Cat," he whispered his plea, letting one hand come to lay upon her shoulder. "I have to leave early for football practice, so I'll be gone closer to three months before I'll get to see you guys again. I'm not a fool...I know it's Tony you've always wanted for your first time..."
"Josh..." she tried to interrupt.
"No, let me finish. Please. If I don't say this now, I may never have the courage again," he let his hand move across her upper chest and pulled her back into an awkward embrace, his strong arm holding her against the seat. "I...I love you, Cat. I guess I didn't realize it until I got my letter of acceptance and signed my scholarship papers and, then, it just kind of hit me. I've never felt like this for anyone else and, I think, I never will again." He paused to swallow nervously before speaking again. "When I'm gone, if you and Tony...if you decide to have intercourse...don't...don't tell me, okay? I'd really rather not know about it."
Cat raised both hands to hold tightly to the arm across her chest, turning her face so she could look at the boy, seeing the honest anxiety in his eyes. "Oh, Josh, I could never choose between you and Tony...not now. There was a time, maybe, back when we first started this, when I thought he'd be the one but you've grown to mean so much to me, too. If there was a way I could have you both as my first, I'd do it in a heartbeat. But don't you get it...I *can't* choose between you now. I love you both equally." Her smile became lopsided and her voice filled with irony. "That's why I'm still a virgin. After all the other stuff we've done with each other, how can I possibly expect to find 'that someone special' who will be able to measure up to you guys? Don't you see what's happened? You and Tony have spoiled me through your tender care and patience but ruined my chances of finding anyone who would be willing to give all that you both have already given me."
Josh listened carefully to Cat, his heart swelling with her open admission of love but twisting with a bit od remorse as he considered the position he and Tony had inadvertently put her in. They'd each all but given up dating other people or looking for 'that someone special'...there was just no reason to anymore. They had everything they thought they needed with each other, never thinking about the lasting consequences, and living, like most young people do, from moment to moment.
"Cat," he was shocked, "I had no idea."
"And neither does Tony, I guess," she pushed his arm away but retained a hold on his hand, turning around so she could look squarely at him . Her eyes were a little sad. "I guess we both have a secret now. I didn't tell you this to make you feel bad or sorry for me or anything like that but, now thay you know, I don't think we need to share it with Tony. It would just be something else for him to worry about." She blinked and squeezed his hand tighter. "Josh, I could have walked away from our arrangement anytime I wanted or, at least, stopped things from progressing like they did but I didn't. It was *my* choice." She eyed him critically and offered a soft, sweet smile. "I don't regret what we've done. Believe me."
"How can you not?" He asked quickly, his voice quiet with amazement. "Geez, Cat, how can you not regret what we've done?"
Her smile blossomed into something radiant. "Look what I got in exchange: two terrific guys willing to share just about everything with me. I've learned more about life and love and respect and giving from you two than I possible could from a hundred other guys I could have dated casually. No girl could ask for two better friends than you and Tony. I feel safe and protected and I know neither of you would intentionally hurt me, no matter what." She cocked an eyebrow and looked pointedly at him. "You and Tony never pressured me into anything. If you recall the incident that started this whole thing like I do, I'm the one who initiated our first real sexual encounter. Do you remember?"
"Oh, yeah," he responded wistfully, "I remember. Tony didn't know what hit him...and then Gunny showed up!"
The two teens shared a chuckle at the memory and then settled, faces just inches apart. Cat looked deeply into Josh's eyes and cupped her hand around the side of his face.
"And never doubt my love," she whispered sincerely, pressing a quick kiss to his warm lips. "Never doubt we will *both* still want you when you come home."
Josh stared at the remarkable girl for a few moments and then smiled. "Okay. I feel somewhat better now."
"Good."
"In fact, I feel so much better I think we should push a few of Tony's buttons when he gets back."
Cat gladly welcomed Josh's predilection for devilment. "What do you have in mind?"
His growing grin was evil. "You have any of that hand lotion with you?"
Several minutes later, a whistling Tony emerged from the sporting goods store with his bulky burden, walked to the rear of the vehicle, and popped the back, depositing the bag containing the brand new set of golf clubs into the storage area. He slammed the hatch shut, strolled to his side of the Jeep, and froze before he could slide through the open doorway and into his seat.
Instead of Cat, he was greeted by Josh's leering, sated face, his strong, young body sprawled bonelessly against the passenger-side door and his pants undone and open, the fingers of one hand pushed inside and lazily playing with the fabric of his underwear. He looked exactly like he did after having an orgasm, contented and pleased, and Tony felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck rise in shock. He swallowed dryly, his eyes skimming over Josh's body, and caught sight of something laying on the console between them: it was the plasic baggy, some viscous, milky substance coating the inside like semen in a condom.
Tony whipped his head to the back and finally focused on Cat, the buttons of her lavender shirt mismatched with the holes, her well-worn jeans low enough to expose a significant amount of smooth, tanned skin, and her long hair free of it's usual ponytail and flowing around her head like a waterfall. That she was reclining on the backseat with her legs spread wide was the final blow.
"Fuck..." he hissed breathlessly in disbelief, eyes darting accusingly back and forth between them before he managed to reverse his motion and stumble a few steps away, ending up sitting heavily on the hard, concrete curb when his legs decided to give out. Elbows on knees, he lowered his head and took a couple of deep breaths.
"Tony!" Cat was instantly beside him, small hand on his back, rubbing soothing circled as she tried to explain. "It was just a joke...we didn't do anything."
Josh was there, too, on his knees in front of the obviously distraught youth, hands reaching to grab each shoulder in an attempt to push him upright. He shoved the plastic baggy into Tony's face, causing the boy to jerk away in replused reflex.
"Damn it, Tony," he snarled, trying to get the baggy under his friend's nose, "it's nothing but Cat's hand lotion! Come on...smell it..."
Tony pressed his closed eyes and lips tightly together and tried, again, to evade the persistent piece of plastic, the voices of his friends sounding strangely distant and dim. Josh was having none of that and forcibly grabbed his chin, jerking Tony's head back and thrusting the bag near his mouth.
"Tony, please," Cat urged, hugging him close. "It's just some of my hand lotion. You know, the kind you like so much. Please, just smell it and you'll see."
"Come on, man," Josh was starting to gently shake his friend. "We wouldn't do something like that to you for real. Cat and I would never leave you out of something as important as that, you know we wouldn't."
Tony suddenly reached for the offending bag dangling from Josh's fingers, expelled a ragged sigh, and took a tentative wiff, shoulders sagging with obvious relief when he recognized the scent. He dropped his head forward in embarrassment.
"I...I'm sorry," he whispered toward the asphalt at his feet, running a slightly shaky hand across his face. "I don't know why I reacted like that."
"Forget about it," Josh soothed, only now remembering his pants were undone. He fumbled with his zipper and watched as Tony hesitantly handed the baggy back to Cat, his humiliation keeping him from meeting their eyes. "It was stupid of us to do something like that to you after the converstation we've been having. It was my idea and I'm sorry."
"I went right along with you, Josh," Cat said quickly, gaze never leaving Tony's face. "Don't try taking all the blame on yourself. I'm sorry, too, Tony."
"Everything okay out here?" A strange voice suddenly inquired from the direction of the front of the sporting goods store. "You kids need some help or something?"
Cat got to her feet to look at the kind-looking woman peeking out from the open doorway. "No, thank you, ma'am. Our friend was just feeling a little sick, that's all."
"He was just in here," the woman spoke evenly but with genuine concern, one hand pushing a strand of graying hair away fron her face. "Does her need a drink of cool water or a place to lie down for a bit?"
Tony shakily pushed himself to his feet and mustered a small smile. "I'm fine now, thank you."
"Well, if you're sure..."
"Yes, ma'am, I'm sure."
The trio walked slowly back to the waiting Jeep, taking their original positions inside, and settling into an uncomfortable silence. They traveled awhile without speaking and the sudden awkwardness of the situation wasn't lost on any of them.
"Holy crap," Josh finally muttered from the back, "can we be any more dysfunctional or what?"
Cat smiled at the statement and shot Tony a quick glance, carefully watching his profile and hoping to find some reassurance in his face. There was a few moments of continued tenseness and then, finally, he seemed to relax just a bit, grinning shyly.
"I can't believe you guys ruined a perfectly good baggy for something as stupid as that," he offered lamely. "And I can't believe I fell for it."
"Oh, come on," Josh slid forward slowly, like he was testing the waters, until he was pressed against the back of Tony's seat again, "it was a good joke."
Tony shrugged and then the smile widened. "It would have been even better if you'd used one of the condoms I've got in there instead of that ratty old baggy."
"What?!" Cat yelped, hands reaching to jerk open the compartment, not believing what she heard. Sure enough, her fingers quickly located a sealed box of condoms and she pulled it out to show Josh, astonishment painting her face. "I didn't even see this when I was looking for the baggy!"
"One track mind," Josh stated matter-of-factly and grinned. He turned to look at the back of Tony's head and raised his fingers to rest at the nape of his friend's neck, wanting, needing, to reconnect...to know things were going to be okay between them. "And you said you didn't have any...shame on you for lying. You'd better not keep them in there anyway. The heat will start degrading the latex and you'll end up with little foil packets of goo or, worse, they won't be able to keep your soldiers away from the enemy."
"Soldiers away from the enemy?" Cat questioned sarcastically and turned to face him. "Why is it you always say stuff like that? Can't you come up with some other analogy that's not so combative? It's not like there's a war going on, you know."
"Here we go," Tony sighed under his breath and settled back comfortably.
"Oh, but I disagree," Josh countered haughtily and proceeded to attest to the true purpose of the condom in it's battle against unwanted pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases. He went on and on, pulling out each and every scrap of information he could recall, from his earliest talks with his father, to the data presented in every health class he ever took in school, all the way to what he garnered himself from surfing the internet, until both Cat and Tony were pleading and yelling at him to just shut up.
It all finally ceased as Tony pulled into the driveway of the Gibbs' home and slammed on the breaks, jostling Josh just enough that he lost his balance and slid the rest of the way off the seat. He managed several choice words as Tony started to get out of the vehicle.
"You need some help?" Cat asked hopefully between Josh's continued swearing.
"No," Tony grinned back and shook his head at the flow of words coming from the back seat. "Daine will be plenty pissed when she finds out Gunny gave me permission to come into her home when no one else was here...she'd probably have a coronary if she ever found out I had some of my friends with me, too." He paused, seemed to reconsider after reviewing what he'd just admitted, but shrugged it off. "You're just going to have to handle Mr. Pottymouth yourself. I won't be long, I promise."
He exited the Jeep and looked back toward his friends, hesitating as he thought about what was rolling around in his mind. Before he could open his mouth, Cat was frowning and pointing a finger in his direction.
"If you say even one word about those stupid condoms or plastic baggies or any other item that could be used as birth control, I swear I'll take out one of those asinine golf clubs and beat you over the head with it!"
Tony's eyebrows rose at her sudden outburst and then barked out a laugh, her expression brooking no argument. "Yes, ma'am!"
He quickly grabbed the bag of clubs, remembered to snag the birthday card, and bounded up the walkway leading to the front entry. He rummaged around in the decorative rocks in the flowerbed just to the left of the porch and located the fake stone housing the compartment for the spare house key. This wasn't the first time he'd been to Gunny's new home but he'd never been here alone and it gave him a funny feeling to be putting the key into the lock. The deadbolt opened easily and Tony slipped the small piece of metal into his pocket for safe-keeping, knowing it would be needed when he locked back up before leaving.
Once inside, Tony paused briefly as he recalled the layout of the house, swiftly remembering the master bedroom's location toward the rear of the dwelling. His sneakers made almost no sound on the highly-polished wood floor and he winced when he remembered he wasn't suppose to wear shoes inside this house. Rule number one in the Gibbs' household and he'd already violated it. Oh, well. He was only planning for a quick in and out, so no one would be the wiser if he just kept his feet shod for the short duration of his stay.
As his eyes skimmed the decor, he frowned with disgust, not understanding how Gunny, or anyone for that matter, could bear to be surrounded by all the 'girly' stuff Diane had on display. Little knickknacks and collectables and things Candace called 'dust-catchers' seemed to fill every available surface, fighting for notice. The living room color scheme, if it could even be called a scheme, consisted of white and off-white and eggshell and ivory and Tony had to quickly look away before it all made him sick. There was absolutely no way he'd ever be allowed into a room like that or, for that matter, would Lilly Marie. Tony bristled at the thought and knew the little girl didn't get to visit her daddy here very often because of Diane's insistence that Lilly was just too young to respect the furnishings and possessions. What an absolute crock of shit that was. There were many extra trips to Atlanta for Gunny now and, that too, obviously had to be a strain on the relatively new marriage.
Pushing those useless thoughts away, Tony concentrated on getting to the bedroom and out of the house as quickly as possible. Slinging the cumbersome bag a little more securely onto his right shoulder and making sure he wasn't folding or wrinkling the birthday card still clutched in his fingers, he walked past the linen closet, by the downstairs bathroom that held an awesome Jacuzzi...
...and stepped straight into a section of Hell.
Directly in front of him, perched on the queen-sized bed in the center of the longest wall, and with her back to him, a very naked Diane Gibbs was straddled atop an equally naked unidentifiable man and was doing things no married woman should be doing with anyone other than her husband. Tony froze at the totally unexpected scene and sucked in a quick, short breath, his sight tunneling in on the writhing duo, hearing the moans and groans and heated words that made his skin crawl like an angry army of fire ants. The teen couldn't help it when his eyes dropped to watch as the thick, glistening cock pushed up into Diane's wet heat, the sight both fascinating and revolting him simultaneously. The moist, sucking sounds of the flesh entering and exiting made him flinch and, before he could stop, he took an unconscious step back...straight into a table holding another collection of dust-catchers. The resulting noise immediately disturbed the copulating couple on the bed.
"What the fuck?!" An angry male voice bellowed as Diane's head whipped around, her eyes widening with surprise, recognition, and, finally, fury.
"Tony!" She spat viciously. "What are you doing in my home? How did you get in here?"
With horrified eyes, Tony watched as Diane pulled away from her partner and advanced toward him, seemingly unconcerned with the state of her undress. He tried to step back further but was trapped against the table, the sound of more disturbed knickknacks going all but unnoticed, even the ones shattering on the floor at their feet. For some reason, his mouth refused to work properly as his eyes continued to stare at her bare body.
"Answer me, damn it!" Diane all but screamed, her face a mask of fury, finally snagging a flimsy robe and hastily wrapping it around her form. "How did you get into my home?"
"Gunny...Gunny told me...about the key," he stuttered at last, reaching awkwardly into his pocket and producing the spare he's taken from outside. He took a deep breath and tried to get his scattered emotions under control, his eyes unconsciously darted back to the bed. "Who...who is that?"
"That's none of your business!" Diane swiftly snatched the key from his outstretched hand and pushed at one of his shoulders. "I want you out of here now!"
"Gladly," he replied, feeling his own anger beginning to boil. He dropped the set of clubs to join the broken collectables on the hardwood flooring and tossed the birthday card on top of the mess for good measure. He turned and made it just out of the bedroom before Diane caught his arm tightly, sharp nails digging into the skin.
"You will never mention this to Jethro," she ordered coldly, her eyes like hard chips of ice.
"What would I say?" Tony mocked in disbelief, looking at the woman as if she had just sprouted two heads. "Gee, I know: 'Oh, by the way, Gunny, your whore-of-a-wife was fucking someone when I delivered her birthday present for you'." That got got him a hard slap to the face and Tony winced, fleetingly wondering if it was going to be his lot in life to get smacked around by all of Gunny's wives. "Yeah, that's about right."
"Don't you dare talk to me like that, you little bastard!" She hissed and grabbed his stinging face. "You will *not* speak of this to anyone. Understand?"
Tony tried to pull away, felt her nails dig in, and ended up with a set of bad scratches running from cheek to chin on the left side of his face. He winced at the pain and stepped further back, trying to put more distance between them.
"I'm leaving now, Diane," he whispered, eyes quickly darting to the doorway of the bedroom behind the woman as the strange man suddenly appeared, his nude body filling the space obscenely. He leaned casually against the frame and smirked at the teenager, fueling Tony's anger even more.
"What are you staring at, punk?" The deep voice taunted as the man spread his arms wide. "Never seen a man hung like me before, I bet."
There was no mistaking the open look of disgust and hatred that formed on Tony's face before he whirled away from the two adults and hastily made his way out of the house. Diane stood and listened to the sound of the teen's retreating footsteps, a small, calculating smile growing. She didn't budge until she heard the front door opening and closing, only turning to move back to her companion when she was sure the youth was gone.
"Well, that was pretty awkward," the man laughed as she finally stepped into his embrace. "This going to cause problems for you?"
"Possibly," she purred as the clever hands pushed aside her robe and slipped across her skin, enfolding her in a strong, rough embrace, "but I don't think it will."
"How can you be so sure?"
Diane smiled coyly and stepped back, taking one of those clever hands and leading the man back toward the big, messy bed. She eased down to sit on the edge of the mattress and pulled until he was standing directly in front of her, his impressive dick just inches from her face.
"Because I"m going to give Jethro *my* interpretation of today's events before that sneaky little bastard ever gets the chance to talk to him," she smiled widely up into his eyes and wrapped a slim hand around his reawakening cock. "And when I finish, Tony DiNozzo will *never* be welcomed around here again."
***
There was nothing worse than not knowing what to do in a given situation.
The indecision, the apprehension, and even the small, niggling touch of fear could combine together to play havoc with the human mind and body, throwing the vacillating person into a wringer of uncertainty and despair. There couldn't possibly be a human on Earth who wanted to be placed in that tenuous position and, unfortunately, no one was exempt. Even someone usually blessed with an abundance of self-assurance could succumb to the unwanted feelings of inadequacy, all confidence and poise sucked away, leaving a pallid replica to face the dreaded state of affairs with a combination of trepidation and a high level of concern. A mature, older person could, possibly, handle the uncomfortable situation with a bit more dignity and composure but, when the individual in question was merely a teenager without the life-experiences or the ability to recognize varying human behavior as readily, there was no telling what the final outcome would be.
Standing nervously at one end of the moderately-sized deck at the rear of his home in Manassas, Tony DiNozzo blinked rapidly into the early-morning sunshine and absently wondered if he was, somehow, cursed for life. There just didn't seem, in his young eyes, to be any end to the constant stream of predicaments he found himself thrust into either because of his highly-dysfunctional biological family, his chosen 'alternate' sexual orientation, or his on-going and everlasting longing for the one man who *still* refused to see him as anything other than a child. Somehow, he just always seemed to end up paying the price for things he had no control over and, unfortunately, today didn't appear was going to be any different for him.
"My life must be some kind of cosmic joke," he mumbled into the bright sunshine, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans and shaking his head in bemused resignation. He snorted a laugh tinged with bitterness. "Too bad there's nothing funny about it."
Just five short days ago, after delivering a surprise birthday present to Diane Gibbs from her absent husband and receiving one of the biggest shocks of his young life, Tony was still trying to figure out what he was going to say to Gunny when he spoke to him later in the day as he planned. If the information he'd gathered was correct, and he had no doubt it was, Jethro Gibbs should have returned home from his brief assignment at sea sometime yesterday afternoon and would now be available to take the teen's call. And Tony was prepared to make the call...he just had no idea what he was going to say once he had the man on the phone.
"Fuck," he whispered and turned to lean a hip against the waist-high wooden railing, arms crossing over his chest and head dropping slightly forward, "I'm such a wuss."
The impending conversation couldn't be put off, no matter how uncomfortable the subject matter or how unprepared the boy was for it. Tony knew there had to be some communication with the ex-Marine, even if it was under the clever ruse of finding out how the NCIS agent's assignment fared or when the young man would be able to come for a visit. Eventually, he was fairly certain, Diane's name would be mentioned, along with the dreaded birthday gift, and then the teen would be able to find out just what Gunny knew by listening to the tone of his voice.
Again, he sighed. "I'm more than just a wuss. I'm a chicken-shit, coward-of-a-wuss."
Turning back to gaze at the yard spread out before him, Tony rested his elbows on the rough railing and wondered if he would ever have the courage to tell Gunny the truth about the events five days ago in Richmond. It was much more complicated than just opening his mouth and recounting what he'd seen and heard...much more. He didn't think he could speak the words that would surely destroy Gunny's marriage but would, probably, put his own relationship with the man on a totally different plane of existence. The last thing in the world he wanted was to cause Gunny more heartache but the man deserved to hear the truth from someone who cared enough to relate the cold, hard facts without purposefully trying to inflict unnecessary pain.
Didn't he?
Pushing away from the rail, Tony began to pace, moving from one end of the deck to the other, the familiar, repetitive motion allowing him to run a series of potential dialogues through his head. He tried not to focus on how upset and angry and, assuredly, disappointed Gunny would be when finally finding out about his cheating wife's indiscretions. The youth grunted as words like 'whore' and 'slut' popped unwanted into his consciousness. Those were terms he was *not* going to utter in Gunny's presence, no matter how accurate he thought they were in describing the woman in question. There was no doubt, in his youthful mind, both adjectives were appropriate for Diane Gibbs but realized, as the wife of the one person he loved and respected above all others in his life, he'd never be able to speak of her in those terms to him. No, there had to be other, less damning words to tell the distasteful tale correctly.
The pacing became agitated and even a series of swift, deep breaths did nothing to calm his racing heart. This was not good. He knew a quick call to either Cat or Josh or both would help soothe his soul and bolster his confidence but it was fairly early in the morning and neither friend could really say anymore than they already had concerning the subject. It didn't matter the two teens disagreed on how Tony should handle the situation, all that truly mattered was they gave him their total support and love and were prepared to back him any way they could. A small, wistful smile momentarily broke the solemn expression as he thought of them and their differing opinions.
Cat vehemantly believed Gunny needed and deserved to hear *everything* and wanted Tony to relate, step by step, all that had occurred from the moment he'd entered the Gibbs' residence until he'd closed the door upon leaving. She thought the man should know of the shock he'd gotten at finding Diane naked and sexually engaged with another man, of the anger he'd experienced at her callous order of silence and secrecy, and of the terrible pain and humiliation he'd endured from her careless infliction of the marks he still carried on his face. Cat had been furious upon seeing the bloody gashes on Tony's cheek but, worse than those, she'd almost become a human version of her nickname, spitting and hissing with rage, teeth bared and fingers arched like talons, as she'd seen the bitter sorrow and open disillusionment glittering in his stunned, watering eyes. She'd almost managed to get to the Gibbs' front door before Tony's anguished pleas and hoarse entreaties had pulled her back to the vehicle, his quiet, whispered request for them to just 'get the hell away from this place' reminding the girl another confrontation was not what her friend needed at the moment.
Josh, on the other hand, was at direct odds with Cat's point of view. Whereas Cat wanted an open, honest accounting of what had occurred, Josh thought it best to remain silent and allow the normal, natural deterioration between husband and wife to take place without any extra assistance. Besides, he'd stressed, if Diane Gibbs was blantantly bringing her lover home for a little afternoon delight while Gunny was away on assignment, there were probably a lot of other problems with the marriage than just infidelity. He'd carefully reminded Tony of the sometimes tenous bond the teen shared with the ex-Marine and wondered if discussing Diane's recklessness would really be the wisest course of action to take. Gunny might consider it nothing more than Tony's jealousness rearing it's ugly head. Again. 'Besides,'Josh had stated coolly, 'no man wants to hear his wife is a cheating whore, especially not from the one person who's practicaly worshiped and lusted after him since childhood. Can you imagine what he would think?'
Sighing loudly and closing his eyes in anguish, Tony knew *exactly* what Gunny would think of the unsubstantiated allegations. It was his own fault, he knew, for carrying the torch for so long but there was nothing he could do about what his heart felt. He swallowed hard against the painful reminder of the words spoken to him by Gunny's first wife, Carolyn, and of her accusations he'd 'do just about anything to sabotage Jethro's happiness' and had to wonder if others felt the same about him. Was he that transparent in his emotions? He really didn't want Gunny to be unhappy but, in all honesty, he didn't want the man to be married to Diane...or anyone else, for that matter... and still had hope the ex-Marine would, someday, return his love willingly and openly.
"Yeah," Tony breathed morosely as the pacing slowed, "like *that* will ever happen in this lifetime."
Moving back to his original position by the railing closest to the back yard, the teen tried to put himself in Gunny's shoes, tried to visualize what it would be like to go about daily life, oblivious to what was happening under his very roof and in his very bed, fairly certain *he'd* want to know if another man was tainting the sheets with his traitotous wife. Wouldn't he? What man wouldn't? It really was almost too much to comprehend for the young mind. How could Diane do something like that to Gunny? Why couldn't she be satisfied with what she had? What could possibly be so wrong in the marriage she would find it necessary to resort to fucking other men in the bed she was suppose to share only with Gunny? Shaking his head in utter confusion, Tony was at a loss to understand.
The almost silent snicking sound of the sliding glass door opening brought him back to his surroundings and reminded him of the promise he made to Candace about watering her roses. He momentarily forced all thoughts of Gunny away and took a deep, cleansing breath, keeping his back to the woman he knew was watching from the threshold.
"I haven't forgotten about the roses, Candace," he spoke evenly, letting his eyes travel to the lush area cultivated especially for her flowers and vegetables. "I was just enjoying the moment, that's all. By the time you get back from the grocery, I'll be finished and ready for the next chore."
"That's good to know."
The quiet, male voice took him totally by surprise and he whirled to face the intruder, the fine hairs on the back of his neck rising in alarm when he saw Jethro Gibbs standing where he thought Candace should be. Dressed casually and looking like any other guy ready for a leisurely day, there was a chilling intensity in the depths of the cool, blue eyes and Tony immediately knew something was wrong. Very wrong.
"Gunny," he managed softly but with a calmness he really didn't feel, "what are you doing here?"
Ignoring the question, Jethro stepped out onto the deck and closed the glass behind him, the direct gaze never straying from the youth's face. "Candace said you were out here. She told me to come on out."
Nodding, Tony's eyes tracked uneasily to the glass partition. "She still here?"
"No."
The negative reply, and the manner in which it was delivered, made the anxious green eyes flash instantly back to the man's face. Jethro stood in a deceptively relaxed stance, very non-threatening and peaceful, the large, powerful hands hidden in the front pockets of his khakis. He didn't look mad or upset but there was just something not quite right about his calmness, like the quiet before the storm.
"Oh," Tony muttered and shifted back to lean against the rail, the solid support strangely comforting. He offered a small smile. "I, um, was going to call you later today."
"Really?"
Again the tone was a bit strange and Tony couldn't help the brief frown of concern, his mind searching for the cause of his unease. Just back from his assignment, and away once more from home in less than twenty-four hours, maybe Gunny was just tired and needed a little rest and relaxation. Tony looked closely but saw no sign of fatigue, only the blush of skin kissed by the sun and weathered by the salt of the ocean. In fact, the time at sea had actually made the man look healthier than he'd appeared in a great while and the teen was gladdened his Gunny had been given the opportunity to be aboard a Navy vessel once again. It always seemed to do him good and the teen knew how much the young agent loved being on the water. He smiled again.
"How was your case? Did you get the bad guy?" He asked, mirroring the man's stance and slipping his own hands into the pockets of his jeans.
"Is that why you were planning on calling me?"
Tony cocked his head slightly to one side and tried to ascertain what was still making him so uncomfortable. This was his Gunny...he shouldn't feel this way around him.
"Well, yes...and no," he offered lamely.
"Yes and no," the man repeated quietly, carefully studying the uneasy boy. "Just what were you going to speak to me about?"
"Um," Tony shifted against the rail and shrugged his shoulders, "just stuff like I always do. You know...I was...wondering how you were doing and when you'd be able to come for a visit and..."
"I'm visiting now," Jethro interrupted.
Tony sighed and shook his head, suddenly determined to get the man to speak what was truly on his mind. "Look, Gunny, what going on? You just got back from a week-long assignment, you haven't been home for even a day, and you drive all the way from Richmond to play some kind of mind games with me? I'd really like to know what's going on."
"I think you already know why I'm here."
"Well, excuse my ignorance," the teen tried not to sound too flippant but knew he failed when Gunny took a step in his direction.
"Did you have fun delivering my gift to Diane?"
Oh, shit.
"Wh...what?" Tony stammered, shocked by the man's question. He searched Gunny's face for some sign, some indicator, of what direction he needed to take but was met with stoney silence. Surely, Diane didn't just come right out and confess her affair to her husband, not after she'd all but insisted he keep his mouth shut about what he'd inadvertently observed while delivering her gift. Besides, Gunny would have used a different noun. "Fun?"
"Yes, Tony. Did you enjoy your little undercover mission?"
Again, the youth frowned at Gunny's choice of words. He shook his head and motioned toward the wrought iron furniture set at the end of the deck.
"Maybe we should sit down," he offered stiffly and caught the brief nod of acceptance.
Settling into one of the heavy, metal chairs, Tony watched as Jethro selected and took the seat directly opposite him at the round table, his posture rigid and spine straight and looking more military than he had in years. The glacial gaze swept over the younger face and quickly focused on the gradually-healing marks on the left cheek, nostrils flaring and jaw tensing at what he saw.
"It's all right, Gunny," Tony whispered as he brought a hand up to cover the ugly wounds, momentarily lowering his eyes in shame. "It doesn't hurt anymore."
When there was no responding comment, Tony looked back up into a set of eyes that had suddenly gone from cool to heated, the intensity somewhat surprising and daunting. Tony was relieved to know the man was upset with his wife's actions, letting the hand still lingering on his cheek drop to join the other in his lap, now not feeling the necessity to hide the injury from the agent. He offered a bleak smile, knowing it must have been difficult to hear what had happened. He would have never thought it possible for Diane Gibbs to be so straight-forward with her husband but stranger things had certainly happened in the world. Honesty was good thing for everyone. Tony took a deep breath and decided he needed to take Cat's sagely advice and be honest, as well.
"I don't think she meant to scratch so deeply," he began weakly, trying to figure out how to start the dialogue. "She was pretty upset..."
"Upset," Jethro repeated the word without inflection.
"Um, well, yeah," Tony shifted on the hard, unyeilding seat. "I've never seen her so angry..."
"Angry," came the toneless echo.
Frowning again at the emotionless voice and face, Tony tried to get a handle on how to proceed, knowing his information was going to be as hard to deliver as it was to hear. He leaned slightly forward and brought his hands up to rest on the table's cold, welded surface, shaking his head slightly in memory.
"Yeah," he huffed out a self-effacing laugh, "you said she wasn't going to be home. Boy, were we both shocked! She sure didn't expect to see me in the bedroom like that. I guess I kind of ruined the surprise, didn't I? Some happy birthday that turned out to be."
Jethro exploded out of his seat and was instantly pushing the table out of the way with one hand, determined to get to the teen by the most direct route. The edge of the upturning table clipped Tony under the chin and snapped his head sharply back, slamming him roughly against the iron seat and stunning him immediately. With the table well out of the way, the ex-Marine grabbed at the front of Tony's shirt, bunching the fabric in both fists, and pulled, lifting the dazed boy from his chair and turning with unbelievable grace to slam him onto the surface of the unresisting wooden deck, rattling teeth and compressing air from lungs.
"You conniving little shit!" The words were spit cruelly down into the confused, addled face, the painful, wheezing gasp for breath all but ignored. "I almost didn't believe Diane when she told me what you did to her! I actually came here ready to listen to your side of the story." He lifted the limp body and thumped it down again. Hard. "I could *kill* you for touching her like that! Do you hear me? Kill you!" The words were hissing through teeth clenched together so tightly the sound of grinding was evident. "After all we've meant to each other through the years, *this* is what you do to show your love? What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
Tony blearily tried to focus on the terrible visage of the man he'd known since childhood but the image kept swimming before him like some bad underwater 3-D movie. Forgetting the eyes, he attempted to get his mouth to work instead.
"Please..." was all he was able to choke out.
"Please?" Jethro mocked at the whispered plea, shaking the limp teen by the shirt. "Please, what? Please, let you explain why you felt you had to destroy the trust we once shared? Or, please, try to understand your need to obliterate all that was once good and honest between us? Or, how about, please, let you tell me why you found it necessary to attempt to brutalize and rape my wife while I was at sea? Is that it, Tony? Is that it?!"
The hard, bitter accusations struck cruelly and it took all of the teen's willpower to get his uncooperative mouth to function in sync with his slightly-muddled brain. Tony slowly lifted a hand in supplication but had it knocked easily aside by the stronger man.
"I never..." the youth tried to explain. "Gunny, I...I never did anything..."
"Don't you lie to me now!" His rage was awful and he pulled his arm back, raising a clenched hand over the downed boy. "Don't you dare lie to me after you've all but admitted your guilt!"
"Gunny!" Tony struggled weakly against the rough fingers still holding him in place but didn't acknowledge the poised fist, choosing to ignore the open, frightful threat. "I...I didn't do...anything! I swear!"
"You said you ruined the surprise, that she didn't expect to see you...you said it!" Jethro snapped, holding the wriggling boy securely while the menacing fist hovered by his ear, not bothering to listen to his own distorted interpretation of the events. "You can't deny anything now!"
"Deny what?" Tony cried out in frustration, struggling to throw the man off. "I didn't do anything! I never did anything to Diane! I caught her with another man, Gunny! She was fucking someone on your bed...I saw them when I went to put the gift in the bedroom, just like you asked me to do! I swear, Gunny..."
"Liar!" Jethro all but yelled into the terrified face and struck out, the broad knuckles smashing against the scabbed cheek, pressing the tender flesh into the hard, underlying bone and splitting the just-healed scratches anew.
The pain surged upon Tony like a strike of lightning, bursting colorful flashes behind his closed lids, and rocking his head sharply to the right. He didn't feel the rough, wood decking scrape the other, unblemished cheek and pepper the skin with tiny, sharp splinters. He tried to raise a protective arm, the old habit from childhood rushing back in rememberance, but just couldn't get the uncooperative limbs to respond. The only option available, it seemed, was to helplessly await further punishment.
He didn't have long to wait.
The second blow was a quick backhand that flipped his line of vision to the opposite direction, toward the back yard, and his eyes somehow fell to focus on the rose bushes he'd helped Candace plant just last Spring. Blearily, he wondered if he'd now get the chance to water them, like he'd promised, before realizing he had other, more pressing, matters to concern himself with at the moment.
Suddenly, he went from a painfully horizontal position to an unsteady vertical and became conscious of Gunny's moving mouth, hovering a scant few inches from his eyes. Unfortunately, although the lips were moving, Tony couldn't seem to understand the words. The expression, however, was crystal clear. Again, he attempted to speak.
"I...I...dinna..." was all he managed to mumble with a jaw that, somehow, didn't want to collaborate with his brain at all.
"Just shut the fuck up!" The callous command urged as the strong hands continued to hold and shake the unresisting youth, the tone of the man's voice tinged now with a measure of fatigue and a bit of defeat, creeping into the mix like an unwanted child. Tony was pulled roughly up against Jethro's hard, unforgiving body and held prisoner, the grip both frightening in it's strength and soothing in it's intensity. "Just shut up. Just...shut up."
They remained in the strange, silent tableau for several long moments, breathing heavily and shaking with unspent adrenaline, until Jethro finally released his captive, shoving him forcefully toward a vacant deck chair and watching as the youth dropped boneless into the waiting seat. The man took two slightly unsteady steps away and looked down into the dazed face, noticing the mottled skin and the fresh, slowly oozing blood but choosing to focus entirely on the green eyes now awash with unshed moisture.
"I trusted you, Tony," he said with a harsh rasp, ignoring the boy's tears as they began to fall. "I trusted you with everything I had and look...look what you did with it."
Tony tiredly shook his head in denial, the gentle movement against the metal backrest causing a shard of pain to spike through his skull. "Gunny...please...listen..."
"No," he breathed with raw emotion, his own eyes bright and shimmering, "I'm never going to listen to you again. I never thought you'd stoop to doing something so hurtful, so foul, so unbelievably cruel to Diane, just to get me to turn my back on her. She said you'd probably make up some wild story and blame her for what happened, but I just...I just didn't want to believe it. Not from you. *Never* from you. But, I guess, I'm not as good at reading people as I once thought." He shook his head sadly and took another step back, building the distance between them. "What went wrong with you? What made you change like this? Did those years with your Uncle Robert finally catch up? Did he taint you so badly you've now got to pervert every good and decent thing you see?" He ignored the sobs breaking from the boy on the chair and took another step away. "Maybe your grandfather was right all those years ago. Maybe you're going to be just like your mother and father."
Worse than the blows he'd already received, Gunny's words cut deeply and fatally. Tony tried to pull some oxygen into his suddenly empty lungs but only managed to fold slowly forward, chest ending up against his legs and hands rising to cover his head.
"We're done, Tony," Jethro spoke softly but bitterly, moving to the end of the deck, closest to the steps leading to the path that wrapped around to the front of the house. "I don't want to hear your voice or see your face ever again. Do you understand?"
Tony dug his fingertips into his scalp and convulsed at the horrible directive, his insides twisting with fear and disbelief. He pressed his face tighter against the course fabric of his jeans and continued to sob, feeling as though he'd fly apart if he tried to uncurl even one iota from his present position.
"Do you understand?" Jethro repeated louder, waiting impatiently for the correct response from the youth. He didn't receive the answer he was expecting.
Instead, Tony elected to fly apart.
Launching himself from the hard confines of the wrought iron chair, Tony burst into sudden motion, rapidly crossing the distance between himself and the surprised man and tackling the unprepared agent with the full force of his weight and unbridled anger. Jethro staggered back, lost his footing, and, together, they tumbled down the short flight of stairs, landing in a tangled heap of arms and legs on the hard-packed path.
"No, God damn it!" Tony was pushing and shoving at the downed man, twisting and turning until he'd successfully maneuvered his body to almost sit astride the stunned agent. "We are *not* done!"
Awkwardly, he took his own swing at Jethro, the terrible rage he'd effectively held in check since being accused of attacking Diane bubbling forth and breaking free. The punch landed harmlessly against a shoulder as Jethro bucked and rolled, his military training no match for the inexperienced teen. The momentary change of position did nothing to dampen Tony's ire.
"You fucking bastard! I didn't do anything to your whore of a wife!" He screamed up into Jethro's red face. "I did everything you asked and I caught her screwing another man!"
"Shut up!" Jethro yelled back.
"NO!" Tony contorted his body and, somehow, broke Jethro's hold, the whole side of his shirt ripping away from the force of the man's grip. He swung again and, miraculously, connected his fist to jaw, snapping Jethro's head to one side and forcing a hard grunt of surprised pain. He rolled to one knee, prepared to strike again, but was forced back down by a sharp elbow to the stomach. He gasped again for air but continued to battle with his body and mind.
"I didn't do anything to her!" He repeated hotly, sweat and blood dripping and mixing between the two males. Tony struggled to his side and got a leg twisted uncomfortably around one of Jethro's. "She's lying to you, Gunny...she's fucking lying to you!"
"You're the liar," Jethro hissed and slowly worked an arm up close to Tony's neck, flinching quickly back as the teen resorted to using his teeth when his other options began to dwindle away. He tightened his grip on one of the youth's arms and began the slow process of tactically positioning the grappling boy into the controlling hold, feeling the muscles tense and tighten under his fingers.
"Fuck you!" Tony gasped as the first wave of pain shot up his arm, resolutely continuing to battle as best he could under the circumstances. He panted raggedly and snapped his teeth again at Jethro's bare, hovering forearm, catching hold and biting hard, sinking in deeply and feeling the hot wash of blood against his lips.
Jethro grunted and gritted his own teeth at the boy's primitive form of defense, refusing to buckle under the stinging bite, and tightened his hold even more, feeling the bones begin to rasp and rub against each other under the constant pressure. It shouldn't take too much more before surrender occurred.
Seconds turned into minutes and, still, the miserable stand-off continued. Cursing under his breath and panting with fatigue, Jethro watched his blood flow fairly steadily from the area surrounded by the teen's persistent mouth and exerted a bit more pressure on the awkwardly twisted arm, immediately feeling a shudder run through the boy's body. Tony's muffled groan of agony signaled the beginning of the end. Unable to take any more of the slow torture, Tony relaxed his jaw just enough to let Jethro slip the mauled arm away from his bloodied lips, whimpering as the pain continued to flow from the abused limb, up into the socket of the stressed shoulder, and settle disturbingly in the hollow pit of his stomach. It was only a matter of time before the vomiting would begin.
"Had enough?" Jethro questioned cruelly, never releasing his hold, blue eyes quickly assessing his wounded arm and dismissing the injury for now.
"N...no..." came the the strained, hard-headed response. "I...want...you to...listen...to me..."
"Not going to happen again. I told you...we're through."
"C-C-Cat and...Josh were with...me," he persisted, eyes rolling back when a stab of agony took him unaware. His breathing became shallow and rapid and he tried to relax as best as he could under the constant strain. Still, he continued to speak. "They...c-c-can tell...you..."
"Diane told me all I need to know!" Jethro hissed and reflexively tightened the hold a bit more.
"Oh...Gunny...p-p-please!" Tony's pained-filled plea was ignored, his young face twisting into a rigor of agony. "I...I...didn't touch...Diane. She...she lied..."
Jethro lowered his face until his mouth was pressed against the shell of one of Tony's ears, his breath hot and his voice low and dangerous. "If you say that to me one more time, I'll break this fucking arm before you can draw your next breath."
It was not an idle threat.
Jethro pulled just far enough back so he could comfortably gaze down into the pale, sweating face of the teen and, unbelievably, saw the continued light of defiance shining dimly right back at him. He shook his head in warning as Tony's trembling lips parted once more.
"Then...just...do it," he gasped. "I...I don't give...a fuck...anymore."
Tony let his eyes slide shut, unwilling to look into the horrible sight of his Gunny's uncaring face any longer and prepared himself for the flash of agony he knew was about to arrive. He'd suffered a broken arm before, long ago as a child, and could clearly remember the awful, sickening sensation that made him feel like he wanted nothing more than to simply curl up and die. Like now. After this, he knew he and Gunny would be well and truly finished for life. The snapping of the bone would merely be the symbolic severing of the relationship they'd once shared. No more late-night calls to discuss the day's events or problems at work or school, no more surprise visits when one or both of them just needed to see the face of someone who offered nothing more than unconditional love and support, no more dreams or hopes of a future filled with companionable laughter and joy.
It was fading now...the spark was all but extinguished.
Jethro grasped the trembling arm tighter, fighting with his flaring anger, and pictured Diane's agonized face in his mind, seeing the pale, tear-streaked cheeks as she recounted the horrors of the assult she'd suffered at the hands of the boy she was only just beginning to consider a surrogate son. He could still hear the astonishing sound of her sweet voice crack and break as she described the teen's unwarranted attack on their home and her body, and could vividly recall holding her slim, beautifully-formed hands as they shook with uncomprehending fear.
Fear of being raped. Fear of being raped by *Tony*.
Blinking the sweat from his eyes and keeping those memories in a prominent place in his mind, Jethro gritted his teeth and looked down at the beaten boy, watching the body spasm slightly as the nerves in the twisted arm screamed for a measure of relief. The young face was pushed deeply into the thick carpet of green grass, the red of his blood standing in stark contrast against the fresh lushness, and Jethro wanted nothing more than to hurt him like he'd hurt Diane, to make him quake with fear, to tremble with the knowledge that someone bigger and stronger could just take whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, and there was no way of stopping it. He gripped the distorted limb, pulled a bit more...
...and just let go, releasing the arm as if it was diseased, scrabbling hastily away from the teen like some contamination would transfer from body to body, and slowly rose to stand on wobbly legs. He bent slightly forward, trying to catch his breath, and cast a quick, shocked glance back to the downed youth.
There was no movement, save for the slow, listless blinking of the unfocused eyes. Tony was oblivious to everything but the blessed reprieve from the constant pain and was content to merely remain on his cool bed of verdant bliss. He didn't know, or care, where Jethro was at the moment, didn't care about his ripped shirt or battered body, didn't care that he'd, eventually, be required to explain his unusual condition to Candace. In fact, he didn't care about anything anymore, except...
"She...she lied...to...you."
The whispered statement almost didn't reach Jethro's ears but, as the words finally penetrated, he straightened his posture and took a menacing step back toward the collasped figure, not really believing what he was hearing. He gazed down into the dazed eyes and shook his head in disgust.
"*Now* we're done," he said quietly to the broken teen.
Not wanting or expecting any type of response, Jethro Gibbs quickly turned his back on the fallen youth and, without sparing even a backward glance at what he was leaving behind, took the first step toward his waiting car and away from Tony DiNozzo.
***
Josh:
There's an old saying that's probably been around forever which alludes to the fact that time has the capability to heal all wounds. Now, I don't want to sound like the proverbial skeptic here but I think that's nothing more than a huge crock of horseshit, created by some pencil-pushing egghead who had nothing better to do one day than sit around producing simple-minded platitudes to ease the psyches of those individuals who'd, obviously, never experienced a wound so deeply traumatic there was no hope in hell of ever lessening the anguish in their hearts. The passage of time might, indeed, begin to soothe the minor hurt of a crossly-spoken word or an ill-timed moment of forgetfulness or, even, the careless blunder of a thoughtless act but it would never, ever, be able to repair the damage done to my best friend's broken spirit. And, to make matters even worse, there was nothing I could do or say to help bring back the person I use to know. He was, simply, gone.
Cat and I, along with Candace, of course, cared for Tony's battered body as best we could but, when he refused to speak of what had actually occurred on that bright summer day, there wasn't much else we could do except just watch and play silent witness to his gradual emotional withdrawl. We all knew Jethro Gibbs had paid him a visit that morning and had probably been the catalyst for whatever happened but we all had been duped into believing the former-Marine would never do anything to physically harm Tony. Boy, were we fucking wrong.
Anyway, I can look back now and see it so clearly, like it just happened yesterday...
My dad had burst into my room, awakening me from a sound sleep, and ordering me to get quickly dressed and over to the DiNozzo's as fast as I could, saying something about Candace calling and Tony being hurt and I was still so groggy from staying up late watching porn the night before, all I could do was stumble into my jeans, pull on a smelly, hole-ridden t-shirt, and slip into my unlaced sneakers. My dad met me at the front door and he drove us the ten blocks quicker than I could ever remember him going, almost running a stop sign and nearly taking out a dog trying to scamper across an intersection before we made it to my friend's house. We rolled out of the vehicle and sprinted toward the door, only to have it thrown open before we could even knock by an anxious-looking and very distraught Candace, her trembling voice instructing us to go straight into the living room.
Sweet Jesus...
I don't think I'll ever forget my first impression, of seeing Tony's bloodied face and ragged clothing, one eye almost swelled shut and the other focused on some obscure spot on the carpet by the coffee table. I'd never seen him look so lost and defeated but, I guess, it was his utter stillness that concerned me the most, like someone had just sucked all the life right out of him. He'd always been a bright, compelling force, drawing people to him like some amicable magnet, bringing joy and laughter with his good humor and quick wit. Shit, this person was nothing like the Tony I knew. Between my dad and I, we managed to get him carefully up off the couch and out to the waiting vehicle, bundling him into the backseat where Candace gingerly held his spookily unresponsive body as best she could without injuring him further. He wouldn't talk, not even to grunt in response to the soft, gentle questions she asked, and, for awhile, I had the scary notion he was brain damaged.
Once at the hospital, we sat for almost two hours waiting for someone to make the time to see Tony while the medical staff frantically responded to a sudden influx of patients arriving from some major pile-up out on the interstate. We were helpless in our inability to assist, watching the horrendous sight as gurney after gurney of injured and crying people were rolled in, knowing they needed to be treated first but praying someone would see to Tony soon. He just sat silently in the midst of all that activity on one of the hard, molded seats, slumped slightly forward, an arm cradled tight against his body, and stared down at the floor, small splatters of blood drip, drip, dripping slowly from his chin to form a gradually expanding puddle of darkness on the patterened linoleum at his feet. He didn't act like he was in pain...hell, he didn't act like he even knew where he was, and it wasn't until he started to tremble that we realized he was probably in shock.
Candace was up in a flash, pushing and elbowing past others, and badgering some young intern into finding some space in an exam room for Tony, explaining the situation and persisting until the young woman came out to take a look at him. One glance at his condition, at his awful, blank stare, and the way his body was shaking on the chair, and she was instantly escorting him to the curtained-off area, away from us and the rest of the waiting room, with Candace beside him every step of the way. They were gone for a real long time and Dad and I took turns using the phone, calling both Mom and Cat and letting them know what was happening. We couldn't respond to any of their questions because...well, shit...we just didn't have any of the answers...not yet anyway.
Later that day, after several more hours of not knowing a thing, Candace re-emerged looking a lot less stressed but a lot more angry. Because Tony persisted in remaining closed-mouth about how he sustained his injuries, some physiologist or psychiatrist or some stupid hospital head shrinker had been called in for a consult, trying to analyse why he wouldn't open up. To make matters even worse, a rep from Child Services was also called in to speak with Candace about potential abuse issues. We bristled at the notion: how anyone could think a little scrap of a woman like Candace could do that much damage to a big, strong teenager like Tony was beyond us all. She indicated Tony had broken his silence once, becoming hostile and telling the doctors he was eighteen years old and, therefore, an adult and didn't have to answer any of their 'fucking questions' if he didn't want. Huh. That response, alone, should have sent up the red flags for anyone who knew him like we did. Tony usually treated those in a position of authority, like medical professionals and law enforcement officers, with a great amount of respect, always saying he didn't know if he could ever do their job, especially with all the crap they took everyday from the very people they served and protected.
At any rate, after all the tests were done, we were able to take him home. Cat was sitting expectantly, as I kind of figured she would be, on the DiNozzo's front porch, chin cradled on her fists, and eyes wide with concern. Her first sight of Tony was, I'm sure, a shock but I was certainly glad she hadn't seen his 'before' look. They'd cleaned him up really well at the hospital, put a couple of stitches in his chin to close the gash, and strapped his injured right arm tightly against his chest, effectively immobilizing the over-taxed muscles and tendons. There was no break or fracture but the doc had indicated it was a near thing and he'd have to be real careful with it for awhile. The mint green scrubs Candace had borrowed for him from one of the nurses made Tony's complexion even more pale and sick-looking and the red, swelling mass around his left eye would, undoubtably, run the gauntlet of colors before finally fading back to normal.
My dad stayed downstairs with Candace to talk things over while Cat and I took him upstairs and tucked him into bed. We could tell he didn't want to talk, even went as far as to turn away and close his good eye when we started asking for an explanation, stubbornly pulling the sheet up like it would, somehow, repel all the unwanted questions. Cat and I just stood there and gazed silently down at him for awhile until, finally, she just toed off her shoes and carefully crawled right into the bed with him, gingerly wrapping an arm around his mid-section and laying her head on his uninjured shoulder. I couldn't stand it, so I slipped out of my own sneakers, took the other side, and pressed as close as I dared, placing a comforting hand on his chest over his heart. He made one, small sound in the back of his throat, momentarily tensed up, and then just started to softly cry. We couldn't do anything else for him and I had never felt so helpless in all my life. It took awhile before the pain medication actually kicked in and allowed him to drift off into sleep but Cat and I just continued to hold on to him, hoping we could, somehow, make everything better by keeping him close and under our protective gaze.
To this day, I hope he realizes how much we loved him and how scared we were for him but, as far as I know, he never spoke of the events of that horrible day to anyone and carried the festering truth around in his slowly hardening heart. Whatever the truth, it changed him forever and my friend was never the same again.
********************
Cat:
We started our senior year in the hot, late days of August with a steadily growing strain that progessively got worse and worse as the weeks went by. With Josh away at college, our 'scary movie night' and the other odd evenings we use to spend in each other's company just faded away. Tony focused all his energy on getting his recovering body back into shape, especially his weakened right arm. I'd been worried the persistent ache in his shoulder would keep him from playing ball during his final year of high school but, from what Mrs. D told me, Tony used most of his free time working out at the local gym, lifting weights and running the indoor track when the weather outside was foul, trying to make himself better and stronger. And, he did, recovering enough to take his usual place with the starting squad but sustained his own private workouts even after the doctor had released him from therapy and proclaimed him fully healed. I could only imagine why he felt the continuing need to be stronger than he'd always been and felt in my heart it must have had something to do with the beating he took on that sunny summer day.
He began looking leaner, almost wiry, and kind of reminded me of those harsh, hard-looking men depicted in prison movies, who spent most of their waking hours involved in some type of physical activity while contemplating the demise of an enemy. His cheekbones became more prominent, giving his kind, beautiful face an almost sharp, angular look, making him look more mature and less like the teenager he still was. I think I would have totally freaked if he'd suddenly appeared with some odd tattoo or two and, frankly, was so relieved to see him offer a sheepish grin when I informed him of my fear. My friend was still under there somewhere...I just had to dig a little deeper each day to find him. He even started wearing his hair shorter than I liked but he defended his choice by complaining his football helmet made his hair look funny and the shorter do 'just looked cool'.
There were times, though, when I'd find myself almost not recognizing the intense looks he'd send my way if we passed in the hallways at school or ran into each other unexpectedly in public, those once warm, joyful eyes momentarily dimming and growing wary, like he expected me to betray or hurt him in some way as well. He also started keeping his feelings hidden and, where we use to be able to talk about everything and anything, he just started clamming up, unintentionally hurting me with his silence. I was no fool. I knew, in my heart, who'd planted those seeds of doubt, who'd caused this dreadful suspicion, but I never uttered the name 'Gunny' in his presence ever again and I silently cursed that fucking bastard for stealing the last vestiges of Tony's childhood.
Close to the middle of September, during an afternoon when he was still at football practice, I went to the DiNozzo's to finally talk to Candace about Tony's changes. I didn't feel like I was betraying him because I was hoping Mrs. D would shed some light on the situation and, together, we could help Tony get through this mess...whatever it was. I was shocked to learn she'd never been told of what happened between Tony and Diane and just assumed he'd confided in her after returning home. Boy, was I mistaken. She didn't know a single thing about the incident in Richmond.
To say Mrs. D was shocked would be an understatement but, more than that, she was furious. In fact, it was something akin to watching a stick of dynamite being ignited: the match placed to the short fuse, the sizzling burn as the flame crawls up the flammable wick, the momentary pause...and then the ear-shattering, bone-jarring explosion! It was, to say the least, a sight to behold.
I'd never heard such language from her nor seen her exhibit any of the wild, outraged movements that clearly were indicators of her blazing fury. Arms were waved haphazardly about as she shouted of the years of friendship 'with that stupid jarhead who couldn't pick a decent wife if his life depended on it', a finger was pointed accusingly toward a framed photo on the bookshelf as she fumed about the importance of love and family, and an innocent table was savagely kicked as she cursed the day she ever allowed 'her baby' to get near that 'bitch-of-a-woman'. Yikes! It was not a pretty sight. But, in another twisted, perverse sense, there was nothing more gratifying and beautiful in my eyes than a seriously pissed-off Candace DiNozzo. If there was anyone who could ask the right questions and find out what happened to Tony, it was that little spitfire. I don't know when she contacted the Gibbs', or what she uncovered, but I can pinpoint the exact day when she broke the news of her knowledge to Tony because it was the day our friendship was almost completely broken.
On September ninteenth, around nine-thirty in the evening, Tony suddenly appeared on the front porch of my home and demanded to see me. Yes, *demanded*. My father, who'd developed a strong attachment to my friend since our first 'scary movie night' years ago, was shocked and disappointed by Tony's rude behavior and almost sent him away. Luckily, I was in the kitchen at the time and easily heard the whole confrontation, hurrying to the foyer and quickly assuring my dad I could take care of everything. He didn't want to leave me alone with Tony, not while he was acting so erratic and strange, but I finally got him to let us talk privately...though I could see he was very leery.
I quickly moved out onto the porch and closed the door behind me, striding down the concrete walkway and hoping Tony was following. If there was going to be a scene, I didn't want it to be anyplace close to where my folks could hear. When I reached the sidewalk, I turned and got my first real good look at my friend and had to take a step back. He was livid with rage and almost vibrating where he stood, his eyes terrible in their grief and accusations and, when he finally opened his mouth...oh, God...he just tore into me, condemning me for betraying our trust and treating our friendship like a piece of garbage. He blamed me for breaking confidence, for disclosing a secret he *never* wanted Candace to know about, and for fooling him into believing I still cared about him.
I was stunned by his words but, when I saw the tears glittering in his eyes, I knew it was hurting him just as much to say them as it was for me to hear them. I tried to explain my actions but he would cut me off and, when his voice suddenly broke and he had to swallow a sob, I could only reach out and pull him into my embrace, whispering, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry' over and over again until he finally raised his arms to hold me in return. We were both crying before too long and nothing else seemed to matter except holding on to him as tightly as I could and never letting go.
It might have been just minutes or it might have been an hour but I slowly noticed a change in the way he was holding me, the way his mouth pressed against the side of my neck, the way his strong body nudged closer to me, like he wanted to crawl inside and share my skin. His hands began to roam and caress and his lips found their way from my neck to my cheek and, then, to my mouth. We'd kissed before, while indulging in our little mutual gratification society with Josh, but there was no playfulness now, only the taste of his sweet sorrow and the flavor made me ache in sympathy.
I managed to pull away just enough to look into his eyes and I immediately recognized the raw, open desire reflected in their depths. We hadn't had any type of sexual contact since Josh's departure and he was fairly burning with want. To be honest, so was I.
Grabbing one of his hands, I glanced toward the front of my house to make sure no one was snooping, and began dragging him around the side and into the darkened back yard, toward the big oak that still held my old tree house high within its sturdy branches. He followed me up the wooden rungs nailed securely to the trunk without question and, once safely within the rugged confines, we were tangled together on the rough floor, hands and mouths reaching for connection, arms and legs enmeshed, and breath coming ragged and desperate. I remember shoving his gray sweatshirt up just far enough to latch onto one of his nipples and heard him hiss but, when his fingers pushed into my pants and found my clit, I don't recall much except the feel and taste of him as he brought me to orgasm.
I did regain a bit of sense when I felt him tug my jeans the rest of the way down and move to cover me with his hot, hard body, his knees suddenly wedging my legs open even further, and the wet tip of his solid cock trailing up the inside of one of my thighs. I know I tensed up, and I know he felt me tense up, but he didn't stop and I *knew* what he was going to do. I'd always wanted either Tony or Josh to be my first because I realized they'd take care of me and make it special.
This was *not* going to be special.
I got scared and began to resist. We didn't have any condoms and we were on the hard, rough surface of the wooden floor planks and this was just not the way I wanted to lose my virginity. I remember getting my hands against his shoulders and pushing, telling him to stop and hoping he wasn't too far gone to hear my frightened voice. I could and would gladly do anything else to get him off but I wasn't prepared for intercourse and, quite frankly, the intensity of his need was a little too overwhelming.
I think I had to really shove against him hard before he recognized my resistence and, then, he was up in a flash, scrabbling away as quickly as his twisted clothing would allow, ending up sitting with his back against the side of the structure, his face in the shadows and his expression hidden. I could hear his ragged, uneven breathing for several long moments and, after a small pause, the stifled sound of choking. Tony was crying again.
I struggled for only a few seconds and tried to move toward him but he was instantly away and avoiding my outstretched arms, descending the rough ladder before I could even get close enough to touch him. I frantically pulled my own clothing back into a semblance of order and started after him but, when my feet touched the ground again he was gone, disappearing into the night like he'd only been a figment of my fertile imagination and not a solid reality.
I should have gone after him, tried to talk immediately about the whole disasterous situation, but all I could think about was how much I'd hurt him and disappointed him, again, through my rejection. And, I knew deep in my heart he'd never come willingly to me again for anything.
I started hearing the occassional rumor in early October of Tony hanging out with some guy in the Bethesda area on weekends, traveling to the clubs and joints where his new 'friend' played bass for some local band and staying overnight to party with the musicians and their groupies. I knew who the friend was, had heard Tony speak kindly of the guy he'd met when Jethro Gibbs got married but didn't think he'd enter into something without telling Josh or me. The rumors threw me for a loop because I wanted to rebuild our damaged relationship and...well...I missed him terribly and wanted him back in my life.
So, on the weekend closest to Halloween, I borrowed my mother's car and followed Tony to a club just outside Arlington. He led me to an older section of town where many aging, deserted factories had been transformed into clubs and restaurants and into a structure so full of loud, pounding music, I knew my ears would be ringing for days afterwards. I showed my ID and got stamped accordingly: I could dance and mingle all I wanted with the other, drunk patrons but was too young to imbibe anything remotely alcoholic. I didn't care. The only reason I was there was to spy on my friend.
The building was packed with throngs of writhing, dancing people but, I figured if Tony was there to see Kevin, he'd have to be up front, closer to the band on the stage. I elbowed my way through the heaving masses and, finally, decided to take the high road, opting to do my scouting from an elevated position. I easily found a spot on one of the catwalks overlooking the dance floor and let my eyes travel through the crowd, finally finding my prey when the bass player on stage walked to the edge of the raised platform and dropped to one knee to personally greet someone close by.
Tony.
It was simple to see the open pleasure in Kevin's handsome face as he spoke to my friend, his mass of thick, dark curls swinging about his head as he nodded in agreement to something Tony vocalized. He continued to stroke his reverberating instrument as the song continued but his eyes stayed glued to where Tony stood, an open, hungry expression making his boyish features look slightly preditory and dangerous. I could see my friend throw a lazy, welcoming smile back at the musician and had to wonder just how deeply involved they really were.
When the band finished their set and broke for a quick breather, I was scampering as swiftly as I could to follow Tony and his lovely boy-toy down a shadow-filled hallway and out back toward a darkened alley. As I pushed the heavy door open, I gave my eyes a moment to adjust and then focused on the sight of Tony and Kevin locked together by an old, brick wall. My friend had the other boy trapped against the rough surface, one arm tightly holding him captive as he harshly plundered his mouth and the other lost somewhere between their two bodies. Kevin was bucking and writhing and had worked both hands into the back pockets of Tony's jeans, trying to control some of the action by guiding his ass.
A noise from somewhere startled them and, before I knew what was happening or had time to move away, Tony had turned his lust-glazed eyes in my direction and froze.
"Cat?" he asked huskily, eyes clearing enough to look honestly confused. "What are you doing here?"
I took a steadying breath and knew it was now or never. "I've come to take you home."
Tony blinked blankly at me for a few moments before pulling slightly away from Kevin. I saw him gently smooth a hand across the bass player's cheek and lean in to offer a soft kiss before he took a step in my direction.
"Why would you need to take me home?" He asked quietly and with no anger.
I flicked my gaze to Kevin, who remained where he'd been left, eyes wide but looking fairly confident Tony would be returning to his arms. "I...I've changed my mind and decided I want us to have sex."
The minutes ticked by as I watched him stand in the space directly between Kevin and me and could only wonder what he was thinking about my odd statement. There was a strange expression on his face, like I'd presented him with some mind-boggling equation, and I started to get really nervous when his reply didn't come immediately.
"Tony," I tried again, "did you hear what I said?"
He nodded his head mutely and then simply asked, "Why?"
"Why?" I was confused now. Surely he knew how much I loved him and what it meant for me to be offering my virginity. "Tony, I want us to be together like we use to. I miss you so much and want to make things right."
"And you think us having intercourse will just magically make everything all right?" He whispered with a tinge of sadness.
Knowing how pathetic it sounded, especially when he repeated it back to me like that, I could only nod my head in silence. The distance between us seemed to be growing, not diminshing, and I could feel the hot sting of tears beginning in my eyes. Before they could fall, Tony was sweeping me back into his embrace and holding tight and I tried to ignore the foreign smell of Kevin on his skin.
"Shhhhh," he murmured into my ear, "it's okay. I understand. Please don't cry, Cat."
I clung to him like he was my lifeline and felt a surge of happiness. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, I pulled just far enough back so I could look up into his eyes. My heart soared when I saw how warm and kind and so much like the way his eyes use to be before Jethro Gibbs had taken away his spirit. I just knew everything would be all right again.
"Then, you'll come home now," I sniffed, making it more of a statement instead of a question and offered a grateful smile.
He touched my cheek with the tips of his fingers and sighed. "No, Cat. I'm not coming home with you now."
I guess I must have looked like he'd slapped me because his hands were suddenly on my upper arms and he was looking at me directly in the eye, forcing me to look back. I saw only kindness and that made me want to cry even more.
"Cat," he said my name so tenderly, "I have what I need right here. You have no idea what it means to me to hear you offer yourself like this, especially after I made such a big ass of myself that night in your tree house. I just can't accept what you're offering. It just wouldn't be right. Besides, Josh will be home for Thanksgiving and, Cat," he brushed the hair from my eyes, "he loves you so much...much more than I ever could, I think."
"You don't love me?" I was heartbroken.
"Oh, Cat," Tony was holding me tightly to his chest again. "That's not what I said. How can I make you understand? For as long as I can remember, I loved Jethro Gibbs with a growing passion unlike anything I ever felt for anyone else. *Anyone*. When he...when things changed, I realized a part of me was gone, the part that felt love was broken or bent or, I don't know, just not *there* anymore. I care about you and Josh and Candace more than anyone in this whole world but, to be honest, I don't think I can or even *want* to ever love like that again. It just...hurts too much."
"Tony..." I breathed in anguish for my friend. What could I possibly say to that admisssion?
"And if I can't give you the love you deserve, then I shouldn't be the one to take your gift. Understand?"
I nodded against his chest and as he started to shift away, I reached to stop him. I didn't need to speak...I know he could see what was in my heart...because he smiled so sweetly I thought I would break into a million tiny pieces.
"It's okay," he insisted and looked quickly toward the musician still lounging patiently against the wall. "It's really okay. Kevin was there when I really needed someone and, thankfully, he's still here." He smirked ruefully. "It ain't love but it ain't bad."
I had to lift my head at his remark and smile slightly at the honest assessment of the relationship. I shifted my gaze to the person in question and saw he, too, was grinning shyly, no anger or malice or conceit apparent in the expression, just a resigned happiness for what he did have at the moment. And, if I faced the hard, cold facts, that's all anyone could ever ask for in life.
I returned my gaze to Tony. "Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure," he leaned in to press a quick kiss to my lips.
"I love you, Tony," I insisted, wanting him to know how much I meant the sentiment. "I will *always* be here for you, no matter what you need."
"I know," he mumbled back and sighed, stumbling a little over his next words, "and I...I care so much for you, too."
And it was true. He couldn't or wouldn't let himself be swayed by love ever again but he sure was able to care deeply.
I left Tony and Kevin in that alley in Arlington on a chilly October night and returned to Manassas alone. I didn't realize until much later, how simply caring for a person could hurt just as much as loving them.
***************
Candace:
As if things at home couldn't get any worse than they'd already been, I found a lump in one of my breasts just before Christmas. I hid myself in the shower and cried like a baby until I could get myself back under control, knowing it wouldn't do anyone any good by feeling sorry for myself. I guess I had an inkling something was wrong with my body, since I'd been experiencing a slowly growing fatigue and a gradual weight loss for several months, but I passed it off as a side-effect of the stress we were all feeling...the stress that began when Jethro Gibbs layed his hands on my boy.
Of course, I didn't actually know Jethro had been the one who'd hurt Tony during the summer, not right away, at least. But after having a highly enlightening conversation with Cat back in September, I had a pretty good idea of what had occurred. I wasted no time in contacting that stupid jarhead but was given the runaround by Diane for almost two weeks before I caught up with him while he was at work. He didn't like being disturbed there but when I explained I'd been calling his home for weeks, he was honestly surprised. I wasn't. Diane was probably keeping lots of secrets from him.
Anyway, he agreed to meet with me in Fredericksburg, a good half-way point between our two homes, so we could clear the air and get a few things off our chests. Brian didn't think it was a very good idea and wanted to go with me but I convinced him I would be fine. When he smiled and told me he was more concerned for Gibbs' health than mine, I laughed and kissed him senseless. What a man!
I should have known things would turn out bad.
Our meeting was a bust: Jethro accused Tony of trying to rape Diane and I accused him of being a stupid ass. How he could believe *that* woman over Tony, who'd he'd known since childhood, was beyond my comprehension. Plus, if he was so convinced of Tony's guilt why hadn't he pressed charges and had him arrested? I'm sure he had enough pull with the local police force and they'd've gladly thrown an innocent eighteen year old in a jail full drunks and drug addicts and murderers. When I asked what kind of tangable evidence he had to prove Tony's guilt, he'd frowned even more and said Diane was all the proof he'd ever need and the only reason he hadn't pressed the issue was because of Mike.
Because of *Mike*.
I almost screamed at the man when I got past my shock. To bring my dead brother up now, to throw his name in my face like it was nothing, was just too much. I told that jackass Mike was probably turning over in his grave right now for the way he was letting himself be manipulated by that lying woman and for hurting Tony so badly in the process. I described the way Tony had looked when I returned home after my trip to the grocery, how detatched he'd been from his surroundings, how awful his injuries had been, and how even his two best friends hadn't been able to ease his emotional distress. But, worse of all, was the way Tony had changed, hardening his heart and believing there was no such thing in life as love anymore.
There'd been a small spark of something appear in Jethro's eyes when he'd digested that little tidbit of information but it was gone quickly and all that was left was his cold, icy stare. I swear, the man could probably freeze a cup of hot chocolate in the desert with that glare but I just sat back and let him stew.
We got absolutely nothing accomplished and he left the diner in a huff, much to the obvious joy to the people sitting close to the table we'd been occupying. I stayed and finished my coffee, glad to know Jethro Gibbs would never darken our door again.
But there were times I knew Jethro was missed, even though his name was never mentioned, and I tried to make those occassions easier for Tony. He broke down and cried when Brian and I had to tell him about my cancer and I know his thoughts must have flown to Jethro, who'd always been his rock and refuge. But he bucked up, lost a bit more of his innocence, and displayed a strength that made me proud. My baby was a man now.
I was too sick to make it to his graduation ceremony in June but knew he carried me in his heart as he crossed the stage and got his diploma. Brian went and took lots of pictures for me but, when I looked at them, all I could see was that lost, little boy who Jimmy and I had rescued from the hospital all those years ago. Maybe it was his eyes...his sad, lonely eyes.
I will love my Tony forever, he is my son and my light and has made my life so much richer by simply being in it. I will watch over him when I leave this earthly existence and will do whatever God permits me to make the rest of his life easier. I don't know how much more time I have but, when I think of all the things I'll surely miss seeing, his work, his wife, his children, I know there will *never* be enough time, even if I could live to be one hundred. So, I will have to be satisfied and savor the time I do have.
Now, if I could just convince Tony to savor his life before I leave, I know my job will be well and truly finished.
*****************
Jethro:
The news of Candace's death came exactly three weeks after I found out about Diane. It was like rubbing salt in an open wound because I had planned on traveling to Manassas to personally apologize to Tony and Candace for not believing him in the first place. But, like the ass she once said I was, I waited too long for her to hear my words and, now, she was gone. Damn it, Candace...I'm so sorry.
Diane's confession had come after I'd caught her out with another man and, when we finally had our ugly confrontation, she'd spilled all the beans about her list of indiscretions...and it was an extremely long list. She told me about setting Tony up simply because she knew she could. I'd been blinded by what I wanted to see in her: her beauty, her grace, her unbelievable body. But by focusing on those 'surface' qualities, I'd ignored the most important parts, the things which make an average person beautiful and a beautiful person exquisite. She couldn't be trusted and didn't know what the word 'loyality' even meant and, worse than that, she had no idea what real love was all about.
I'd had a taste of that, long ago, but I'd essentially destroyed that relationship. There was nothing I could do about that now but, to insure Candace's ghost wouldn't come back to haunt my ass, I decided I needed to apologize to Tony, face-to-face, to see if he could try to begin to forgive me for doing what I did. I wouldn't blame him if he didn't but I knew I had to try.
I'd called the DiNozzo home but got no response, not even a dial tone, and couldn't figure out what was happening. After doing a little digging, I found out the home was already on the market and Tony was living with his grandfather until he left for OSU in the fall. I couldn't imagine Tony and Hathaway under the same roof but figured, with a mansion that size, they probably could go days without even bumping into each other. Plus, Tony had his friends and would, more than likely, find plenty of things to keep his distance from Foster and Elizabeth.
It took me another couple of days for Senator Hathaway to return my call and I could quickly tell by the tone of his voice he didn't want anything to do with me. We played the old word game again, jabbing and thrusting as we sparred and parried around each other until I realized he was never going to allow me to come to the house to speak to Tony, much less communicate over the phone with him. I was so frustrated but knew I couldn't give up, not yet.
I had a case come across my desk and didn't get the chance to try again until six days later but, this time, I went in a different direction. I didn't know if I'd have any success this way either but it was worth a try.
Brian Miller was easy to locate and when he answered his phone the night I called, I could tell he never expected to hear my voice. He was stoically polite as I offered my sympathies but didn't tender any extra information and I could tell Candace's death was still causing him great pain.
When I breached the topic of Tony and explained my desire to apologize to him before he got away to college, Brian was very hesitant and didn't want to have anything to do with allowing me access to Candace's boy, especially after the history we shared. But I suppose he heard something in my voice because, after a few long moments of silence, he spoke the words I been waiting to hear.
"He's gone to Great Neck Bay, Jethro. He wanted to spend some time at the cabin, to get his head on straight before leaving for Ohio."
I thanked him profusely but, just as I got ready to hang up, he stopped me with a statement that gave me pause. I cleared my throat and asked him to repeat.
"I said, he's not alone."
"Is Josh or Cat with him?" I asked, not really pleased I'd have an audience to witness my apology but shrugging it off as cosmic justice.
"No," Brian said oddly, "it's his lover and his name is Kevin."
Lover. Tony had a male lover.
I hung up and sat in the dark for a very long time, letting the news wash over me. Honestly, I didn't know what to think. I had absolutely no right to feel jealous or angry or hurt but, no matter how much I wanted to deny it, there was something inside my chest that ached. Sighing deeply and pushing myself out of my padded chair, I went to my bedroom and began to pack a duffle.
Tomorrow, I would go to New York and try to make things right with Tony. Tomorrow would determine if I'd lost him forever or if we had the chance for a new beginning. Tomorrow was just hours away...
***
It's really amazing and unbelievably true: the more things change, the more they *do* stay the same.
Pulling the rental vehicle off the main highway and traveling down the isolated road leading toward the rustic, secluded cabin nestled among the tall, thick, majestic pines, it was very easy to see all the changes wrought by the passage of time and the elements of nature but, ironically, just as simple to recognize certain, persistent landmarks that would be forever identifiable no matter how many years elapsed. It was the presence of these indicators which stripped away all the days gone by, all the nights spent in other locations, all the time with other people, and brought back the memories of happier, more meaningful experiences as if they'd happened just yesterday.
To the left was an outcropping of huge rocks, cut from the face of a large hill years and years ago and piled into an impressive, sculptural mound of stone, the bare, sharp edges exposed and sticking upwards like gigantic shards of gray-toned ice, pointing skyward like some directional deacon to the heavens. The formation had been scaled several times by surprised hikers or daredevil adventurers, who attempted to conquer the worthy opponent and master the challenge but who had, unfortunately, left the smoothest surfaces marred with a few unsightly etchings of names or dates or both. The locals considered it a real blessing or, in some cases, an unusual stroke of luck, there'd been no spray painted graffiti or innapproriate messages left by disrespectful youths or pranking teenagers.
As the road split into two smaller, rougher pathways and, as the distance to the cabin grew closer, the surrounding forest appeared to close in even more and grow thicker, the trees seemingly spreading their limbs to protect the environment from encroaching strangers. The markers here got more difficult to detect. When they did appear, the landmarks were most welcome and usually brought a smile to the face of the traveler, the identifying spots becoming gentle reminders of joyful times when the journey from some great distance to this wonderful place of peace was something akin to reaching nirvana.
Coming up on the right, just a few yards away, was a secluded little area off this rarely-used path where once, many years ago on a return trip from getting supplies in the nearest town, Jethro Gibbs had persuaded Mike Johnson to pull over and stop their vehicle. Back then, it had been the perfect place to indulge in a little bit of 'back to nature' or sample a moment or two of lustful groping and, because they'd been younger and fairly adventurous themselves, it had been easy to let the few moments of necking escalate into an idyllic hour of intense lovemaking. They'd layed on the rough blanket pulled from the back of Mike's car and thrown over the bed of earthy, fragrant-smelling leaves, clinging and thrusting against and into each other until it felt as though they were the only ones still alive on the planet. And, when they were finished and finally resting, they basked in the warmth of the sunlight filtering through the canopy of leaves, whispering quietly, and wondering just how long it would be before the sparrows and wrens flitting nervously overhead began to splatter them with bird shit. Their laughter had led to more kissing, the kissing to more touching, and the touching to more...
Gibbs' wistful smile slipped from his face and he sighed tiredly, resolutely pushing those recollections away. He wasn't coming to the Johnson family's cabin to take a trip down memory lane or for a few peaceful days of rest and relaxation; he was here to make amends to one of the most beloved and important people in his life, the one person he'd essentially destroyed, and could only hope he would be given a few moments to deliver his apology without having the door slammed right in his face. He was no fool, not anymore, and knew it was highly probable his arrival would be the catalyst for another confrontation. But, unlike the last time he'd seen Tony DiNozzo, Gibbs knew he was prepared to take any blows, physical or verbal, hurled his way without any thought of retaliation or retribution. He would endure whatever the youth threw at him but sincerely hoped he would, at least, be given the opportunity to say what was in his heart. Gibbs realistically didn't expect a reconciliation or any true forgiveness but just wanted to have a chance to say the words he had to vocalize...before they ended up choking and killing him in the interim. If Tony sent him away without listening...well, he didn't even want to consider that scenario.
Another short distance and he was suddenly there, pulling his rented vehicle into the area used for parking and eyeing the old, green Jeep in the spot next to him. A half-smile returned unconsciously. The well-worn SUV was in the exact place he'd first seen it, some twelve years ago, as Candace and Jimmy DiNozzo arrived seeking assistance and introducing a six-year old Tony into his life. Twelve years. An eternity for some, it was nothing more than a blink of an eye for Jethro Gibbs. Letting his head drop to rest back against the high, padded seat, he could clearly visualize himself standing in front of the Cherokee, Candace at his side, watching as Mike carefully reached into the back seat of the vehicle and pulled the blanket-draped form of a young, sleeping child from the confines and lifting him into the shelter of his strong, capable arms. Gibbs vividly recalled asking Mike if the child was his, getting a short, quick negative reply, and feeling, somehow, both relieved and, oddly, disappointed. At the time, he didn't know why his emotions had been so mixed but, now, many years later, he realized it was because from the moment Tony had looked at him with those impossibly-huge green eyes and had called him 'Gunny' in that sweet, trembling voice, the boy had been irrevocably connected to him for life. And, for better or worse, the NCIS agent now had the hopeless task of trying to repair the damage he'd done...to the both of them.
Gibbs took a deep breath, pushed the driver's side door open, and took the premier step toward healing. The walk across the worn path and the climb up the rough steps to the front door only took moments and, as he knocked briskly on the huge, solid entrance of the cabin, he got his first real surprise of the day.
Almost immediately, the firm rapping was answered but, instead of being greeted by Tony's familiar visage, he came face to face with a young man who, just by his relaxed, easy stance and his open, honest expression, had to be Kevin, Tony's lover. Gibbs was momentarily taken aback and unconsciously let his eyes travel from face to foot and back again, quickly taking in the riot of dark, short curls, the warm, chocolate eyes, the smooth skin peeking out from under the unbuttoned shirt, and the long, well-muscled legs that could belong to a runner. The young man waited patiently for the frank appraisal to finish and offered a kind, bemused smile, tipping his head to one side in silent amusement before speaking.
"You must be Agent Gibbs," the clear voice was calm, polite, and not at all troubled by the sudden and unannounced appearance. He seemed to catch the man's confused look and quickly added with a grin, "Brian called us last night and said you'd spoken to him and let us know you'd probably be coming here. We just didn't expect it to be so soon. Please, come in."
The genuine good manners and the tranquil, lilting voice of the young man baffled Gibbs even more and, as Kevin stepped aside and gestured with one hand for him to enter the cabin, the agent could only wonder if he was striding into another reality. From his vantage point, it looked a lot like the Twilight Zone. Keeping the suspicious young man well within his peripheral vision, Gibbs moved into the room and pulled up short, taking a quick, startled breath as the recollections of his time in this cabin flooded his senses. Oh, God...so many wonderful memories. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to get his rampant emotions under control, and was completely taken aback when he felt a light touch on his arm.
"Are you all right?" The young man asked softly, a small frown marring his smooth handsome face.
Gibbs jerked away from the gentle touch and the genuine concern and had to wonder if this was some type of joke. If the roles were reversed and *he'd* been the one standing in Kevin's shoes, he'd probably have slammed the door right in his face or, at least, acted a lot more like a jealous and protective lover but, certainly, nothing like what he was now witnessing. He saw the young man step back, raise his hands in a gesture indicating he meant no harm, and offered another worried look.
"Um...I'm Kevin Mitchell and I..." he began levelly but instinctively took another step back when he was suddenly cut off.
"I know who the hell you are," Gibbs gritted out, eyes flashing hotly, not able to contain his immediate dislike for this gentle, young man.
Kevin eyed him cautiously and let his hands fall to his sides. "Okay..."
They stood silently in the living area of the cabin and stared at each other until Gibbs spotted something he hadn't noticed before: a mouth-sized, red suck-mark on Kevin's skin, just under the loose collar of his shirt, at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. The realization of what he was seeing and what the spot indicated just made his flesh crawl. A hickey...a God damn hickey. Frowning anew, the ex-Marine let his eyes sweep downward over the youthful body again and easily detected another mark, this one blemishing the pale, tender skin just above the closure of the low-riding denim shorts and directly under the musician's navel. Shit. He forced his eyes back up and saw a new expression flash in the young man's eyes before the deft, nimble fingers started to slowly and self-consciously begin buttoning the gaping shirt.
"A little late for that now, don't you think?" Gibbs didn't even try to conceal the sneer, shoving his slightly-shaking fists deeply into the pockets of his slacks and was gratified when the fingers abruptly stopped.
A strange look appeared on Kevin's face and, when it cleared, he took a bold step back *toward* the ex-Marine. "Gosh, maybe you're right, Agent Gibbs. How about I just take my shirt off and turn around so you can examine the one I got on the back of my neck...while Tony was trying to fuck me through the mattress earlier this morning?"
Gibbs growled and the hands came right back out of the pockets. This was *not* the direction he wanted to take and he knew he had to get his jealousy under control. He took a deep breath, counted silently to ten, and forced himself to push the angry impulses away.
"Where is he?" He hissed quietly, trying to ignore Kevin's revelation.
"Getting dressed, I think," the musician responded with a casual shrug, moving slowly toward the unlit fireplace and briefly touching the neck of a guitar resting securely against the hearth. The brown eyes tracked back to the man and waited to see how long it would take for him to get the implication.
Gibbs glanced irately at his watch and frowned again. "Kind of late to be just getting dressed. It's not like him to sleep so..."
The ex-Marine stopped abruptly, understanding seeping in, and turned away before Kevin could catch the brief flicker of pain. Brian had said Kevin was Tony's lover and Gibbs knew he should have been prepared to witness some evidence of their relationship but, deep down, he'd honestly hoped there wouldn't be anything to see. He should have known better. Tony had always been a 'touchy-feely' kind of kid, craving hugs and kisses and wanting to be held. As he grew older, Gibbs had experienced, first hand, another side of Tony's desires, had even been the recipient of those youthful yearnings, and had known from the get-go the youngster would always find comfort in the arms...or bed...of another warm body.
He cleared his throat and tried to put the lid on his emotions. "Just how long have you known Tony?"
The question brought a wistful smile to Kevin's face and the expression made him look even younger. "I met him the day you married your second wife."
Gibbs was slightly startled by the confession. "You...you were...how did you meet him?"
"I was in your reception band, Agent Gibbs," he grinned cheekily. "Bass player."
Huh.
Digetsing the information, he could only nod as all the pieces finally began to come together. He'd often wondered, long after he and Diane had escaped the reception hall and begun their honeymoon, why he'd not seen Tony's face in the crowd wishing them well and seeing them off. Now, he knew.
"Do you live in Manassas?" He couldn't help asking questions; it was almost second-nature to the NCIS agent now.
Kevin was shaking his head. "DC, actually, but I get to a lot of different places because of the music."
Gibbs could see the young man had no problem answering the queries, was comfortable in his own skin and in his place in Tony's life, and didn't act anything like a jealous lover. Then again, what was there to be jealous about? Gibbs sighed, knowing he was no longer a component in any kind of romantic equation. There would be no triangle...just Tony and Kevin.
"You'd better treat him right," Gibbs uttered the words before he could stop them and watched a frown flit across the youth's features.
"I give him what he asks for," Kevin replied crytically, eyes growing hooded and suspicious.
"What's that suppose to mean?" The agent demanded brusquely, not at all liking the strange response.
"It means what it means and, if you've got any other questions, I suggest you direct them toward Tony," Kevin's dark eyes looked smoky and Gibbs knew he was holding something back...something important.
"I'm asking *you*," the ex-Marine gritted and took a couple of steps in the young man's direction, pushing for information like he would with a suspect.
"You know what, Agent Gibbs?" The musician smooth tone took on an edge. "Why don't you just go and f..."
"Kev, please," another voice chastised softly from the direction of the hallway and both Gibbs and Kevin turned at the sound, watching as the person in question entered to join them in the living area, "that's not necessary."
"I'm sorry, Tony," the young man was grinning shyly at the new arrival, a warm blush of embarrassment slightly tingeing the smooth cheeks but the eyes bright with unsuppressed devilment. "It just seemed like he wanted to have some kind of pissing contest and, you know me, I'm game for anything."
Tony threw Kevin a smirk in bemused understanding and then focused on Gibbs, taking his first real look at the man who'd come to pay them a visit. It had been almost a year since the confrontation and subsequent altercation in Manassas and, looking at him now, Tony just couldn't pinpoint the one emotion he felt the most toward Jethro Gibbs. They were mixed, to be sure, but none seemed to jump to the fore-front.
Anger, certainly, was still present, although after the passage of these many months, it seemed slightly muted and oddly dull, not as bright and hot and sharp as it had once been. Disappointment was definately in attendence, housed somewhere within his chest, as was the dreadful ache of abandonment and rejection, bringing with them the rushing memory of cruel words and even crueler accusations. And hurt...oh, God...the kind of raw hurt which cramps the stomach and makes the body want to fold over to protect itself from further harm. Yes, there were definately still some very hard feelings but, again, not like they had once been.
Unbelievably, there were good emotions, too. Tony was actually happy to see the ex-Marine looking so fit and well, glad he was seemingly healthy and hale and not suffering from any work-related injury. The youth had always known about the possible hazards Gibbs faced in his occupation and had, in the past, experienced nightmares of the agent sustaining some on-the-job hurt, specifically the kind involving a weapon, a carry-over, perhaps, from the nightly terrors he'd experienced after Mike had been shot and killed while in the service. And, as much as their last parting had hurt, emotionally as well as physically, the teenager would never wish any harm to come to this man who had always meant so much to him. He just couldn't help it...no matter how much he tried to fight the feeling, he still cared deeply for Jethro Gibbs.
"Tony..." Gibbs broke the uneasy silence in the room, totally disregarding the other person and focusing every fiber of his being on the mature teenager now standing so serenely near the large couch. For a moment, he was actually at a loss for words, not knowing how to start the converstaion he'd waited weeks to speak. "How...how are you?"
"I'm good, Jethro."
*Jethro*.
Not 'Gunny'. Just...Jethro. Probably never 'Gunny' again from the only person who'd never called him anything but 'Gunny' all his life. A part of Gibbs' hope shriveled up and died and he was sure the agony from that knowledge could be seen clearly on his face. Fighting back his pain, he took a harsh breath and pushed on.
"I'm glad to hear it. I was hoping we could talk."
"We're talking now," Tony spoke evenly as he took a step closer to Kevin and reached a hand out to begin gently rubbing the musician's back in lazy, soothing circles.
Gibbs bit back the angry words that flew into his mind as he watched the interaction and had to remind himself he no longer had any real power in this young man's life. For all intensive purposes, he was the outsider, the interloper, the one who no longer belonged and the realization almost made him want to turn on his heel and run. Almost.
Gritting his teeth, he tried again. "Do you suppose we could have a little time in *private* to talk?"
Tony blinked silently at the man and then turned his gaze to his now-silent companion. "Would you mind, Kevin?"
Kevin smiled at the softly-voiced request, knowing Tony really didn't care one way or the other if he stayed for the conversation. "You know I don't. I'll just go for a hike and..."
"No," Tony spoke quickly and then released a little huff of air, "you stay here and wait for me. I'll take Jethro down to the dock and come back here as soon as he leaves. How does that sound?"
The musician nodded but put a hand on Tony's arm. "Take your time, okay? Listen to what he has to say, say what you need to say, and then come back. I'm not going antwhere."
Tony nodded and took a few moments just to study his companion's face. Satisfied by what he saw, he nodded again, turned to look at Gibbs, and started for the door, confident the ex-Marine would follow. He quickly cleared the wide porch, took the front steps two at a time and was soon down by the dock at the water's edge, directing his gaze over the broad expanse and focusing on a sailboat some distance out. The water looked good today, so maybe he and Kevin would go for a swim before supper and...
"I was so sorry to hear about Candace. I don't think there will ever be anyone like her ever again."
The simple, heartfelt words tore at the healing wounds of his heart and he had to swallow thickly before he could respond. "I...I kind of thought you'd come for the funeral..."
"Tony, I swear to God, I didn't hear about her death until weeks later."
Still keeping his back to the man, Tony weighed the sincerity of the simple explanation, knowing if he turned and looked at Gibbs right now, he would probably break down and, as far as he was concerned, he never intended on letting this man see his tears ever again. He dropped his gaze and looked at the rough, wood planks of the dock under his feet, studying the weather-beaten timbers and gathering his thoughts.
"She...she got real bad, you know...especially near the end. She wasn't even strong enough to come see me graduate," he heard Gibbs take a few steps closer, the dock creaking slightly under the movement. "Sometimes she would cry because she knew she was going to be leaving me alone and she would actually apologize for it. Can you believe it? She apologized to me for getting cancer." He had to stop for a moment and bite back the sting in his throat. "The last few days were the worst. The meds kept her fairly doped up but, sometimes, she would have these super-clear lucid moments and would start telling me all kinds of stuff. One time...one time she told me how sorry she was she wouldn't be around to see me get married and have children." He offered a bitter smile. "She said she knew I'd make a good father because I had such a hard time as a kid and I'd know how to treat them right." He shook his head and looked back out over the wide stretch of water. "I almost told her about, you know, how I was attracted to both sexes but I just couldn't seem to do it. I just let her continue to believe another lie right up until the end. What a fucking coward I was."
Gibbs reached out to touch his shoulder but Tony, somehow sensing the motion, took several paces away and eluded the contact, moving until he could sit on an old wooden crate at the edge of the dock. Gibbs relunctantly followed and sat beside the teen, keeping his body well away.
"After she was gone, Grandfather arranged for us to have the funeral back in New York, so she could be buried beside Jimmy," he continued softly. "I kind of felt sorry for Brian but he kept saying he understood. Brian was, and still is, so great. He loved her so much. Do you know she told him she wouldn't marry him until I graduated from high school?" He was shaking his head at the irony. "He didn't even get the chance to make her his wife because of me. When I told him how bad I felt about it, he said...he said he was just so happy for the time he had with her, that he didn't need to have some marriage license or a stupid ring. God, when I think of all the shit I gave him when they first started dating, I could just kick myself. I really did some stupid, selfish things."
"You were a good son to her, Tony," Gibbs offered kindly. "Don't ever regret the time you had with her."
"I won't...I can't. If it hadn't been for her and Jimmy, I'd probably be dead by now...or as good as dead," the teen cast a quick glance at the man, knowing he remembered the situation he'd been rescued from. "Anyway, Brian has some old friends living in Columbus, so he plans to come up to visit every now and then. Even said he'd try to get there for a game or two this fall."
"Congratulations on your scholarship, by the way," Gibbs stated, a note of pride creeping in.
"Thanks," the youth responded and shook his head. "Can you believe it? Candace and I use to sit up at night, wondering how I'd ever be able to afford to go to college, especially after Grandfather refused to help unless I applied to some Ivy League schools." His gaze went back to the water. "Now, I've got a scholarship, there's money from the sale of the house and what Candace and Jimmy had saved and invested, and Grandfather has even decided to give me an allowance to cover any expenses the scholarship won't." He shrugged and looked over his shoulder and up the path toward the cabin. "There's someone interested in buying this place, too, and Grandfather is going to handle it all for me, as well. I kind of wanted to hold on to it. I...I really love it here but," he released a huge sigh, "it's probably better to let it go. Doesn't make too much sense to keep it when I'd probably never be able to make it out here for more than two or three times a year...at the most."
Gibbs bristled at the thought of the cabin in someone else's hands but understood the logic in making Tony as financially stable as possible. "Hathaway going to be handling all your investments?"
That produced a real smile and Gibbs delighted in it, even though it wasn't aimed in his direction. "Yeah, right up his alley, isn't it? You know, the house in Manassas was really his...he bought it for us originally, when we moved from New York but, when I tried to tell him the money from the sale belonged to him, he just told me not to look a gift horse in the mouth."
Gibbs smiled back. "He loves you, Tony. He just doesn't know how to say it any other way."
They eyed each other for several long moments until Tony finally looked away, shoulders drooping slightly. He cleared his throat before speaking again.
"What do you want, Jethro?"
Gibbs shifted on the crate, angling his body so he could look directly into the younger face. "I need to tell you how sorry I am for all the things I said, for all the things I did to you. I was so wrong, Tony. I should have given you a chance to tell me what had really happened. I was a big, damn fool. Diane was everything you accused her of being...and more. She took great pleasure in giving me all the sordid, little details of each and every affair she had since we married. She...she actually laughed at me for believing her, instead of you, on the day you delivered her gift. God, Tony...I was so stupid and blind when it came to her."
"You loved her," Tony said simply, crossing his arms over his chest and turning to look the man in the eye, "more than you loved me. I understand. You were married to her. You made your decision based on your emotions and went with the logical choice: your wife or..." Tony shook his head, "shit, I don't even know what I was to you. Not a friend, surely, because you would have given a friend a chance and listened before making a judgement. And not a son because, well, shit, you wouldn't have come on to me like you did in that motel room in Syracuse if you thought of me as any kind of relative." His anger was slowly building, temper ratcheting up with each word. "And not a lover...never that...because I was always just some snot-nosed, little kid to you, from the very beginning, and never worthy enough for any kind of real love."
"Tony," Gibbs tried to stop the flow of hurtful words but realized quickly the teenager wasn't going to give any ground this time.
"No, you either shut up and listen to what I have to say or you can leave right now," Tony growled and turned so they were eye to eye, faces just inches apart. "Make your choice, Jethro, because I don't have all day for this shit. What's it going to be?"
Gibbs was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. He pursed his lips together tightly and nodded once.
It was Tony's turn to be momentarily surprised by the easy capitulation but he pressed on. "You told me we were done. Remember? You said you never wanted to hear from me again or ever see me again. Now, you show up here, expect me to listen to your half-assed apologies, and, what, forgive you for what you did? Is that it? You've got to be kidding me!"
"I don't expect you to forgive me..."
"Good!"
"...but I was hoping you'd, at least, let me have my say."
Tony was instantly up and pacing. "You sure didn't let me have my say back then! This is just like you, you know? I get to a point in my life where I've learned not to miss you, not to think of you, not to wonder if you're okay, not to give a damn about your life, and you just decide to waltz back in like we haven't even spoken to each other in almost a year. A year, Jethro! A God damned, fucking year!" Tony's voice was getting louder, more harsh. "You left me, remember? Left me alone and bleeding on that deck in Manassas and walked away like I was nothing to you, like I'd *never* been anything to you at all! Do you have any idea how that made me feel? I loved you! I fucking *loved* you! And you knew how I felt...I told you plenty of times how much you meant to me. You were everything to me. *Everything*, Jethro. It wasn't some kind of hero-worship or crush or whatever the hell *you* thought it was. It was real love. I never felt like that for anyone else in my whole life. I wanted to spend my life with you, be by your side for everything, even fucking grow old with you! And do you know what the big joke is? I loved you more than all those bitches you married and would have never, ever, cheated on you or made you unhappy!"
"Tony..."
"Shut the fuck up!" Tony yelled, red in the face and trembling with emotion. "I don't want to hear anymore from you, don't want to hear any more of your lies, don't want to hear any more pretty words of regret. Don't you get it? I don't care anymore! You killed that love and now I just don't fucking care anymore!"
The teen stood at the edge of the dock, fists clenched in barely-controlled rage at his sides, panting like he'd just run a marathon. There were tears sparkling in his eyes but he gritted his teeth and pushed them back, swallowing the sob that threatened to escape.
Rising slowly from his place on the wooden crate, Gibbs carefully stepped closer to the shaking youth, and stopped just inches away, moving his mouth until it was directly beside Tony's ear, the hot, moist flow of his breath drifting over the flesh. He paused to breathe in the familiar scent of the younger man before speaking.
"If you still didn't care about me, Tony," he whispered gently, "you wouldn't be so angry."
Tony yelled again in frustration and exploded, pushing Gibbs backward until they were both tripping and falling flat against the rough decking, the impact rattling teeth and jarring bones. Gibbs took the brunt of the force and felt the back of his head connect with the timbers, momentarily stunning and setting his ears to ringing. He closed his eyes, pushed the sickening stab of pain away, and, when he reopened them, it was just in time to see a well-aimed fist heading in his direction. The blow caught him squarely on the chin, rocking his head hard to the right, and sending a sudden flash of agony straight to his brain.
"You bastard!" Tony yelled and struck again. And again. "I don't care about you! I don't!"
Gibbs took the blows, all of them, without lifting a hand in defense, letting Tony's anger run it's course. He could taste the blood, could feel the splitting skin, but knew he, somehow, owed the teen this bit of retribution. It's what he felt he deserved. Tony was right...he was a bastard.
Suddenly, the blows stopped as quickly as they had started and Tony was curled forward over Gibbs' body, his face pressed to the broader chest, his breathing harsh and labored. He was speaking but it took a few moments before the words were really understandable.
"I loved you...don't you understand? I really loved you...and now...I don't love anything...don't want to love anything
again...ever...never again...never again...never want to feel this way again...never going to let anyone do that to me again...never, do you hear me? It's never going to happen to me again...never..."
Tony pushed away and sat beside the downed man, fighting to get his breath back under control, and swallowing back his emotions, pushing them until they were back where he'd hidden them for so long, back to that place no one would be able to reach again. He pulled his legs up and braced his arms across his knees, dropping to rest his weary head on his forearms, feeling the tremors begin to subside.
Beside him, Gibbs struggled to rise, bracing his hands against the dock for leverage and slowly sitting up, spitting a mouthful of blood to one side. Tony had gotten stronger over the months since their last meeting and Gibbs was sure he had at least one loose tooth now to prove it. Raising a trembling hand of his own, he swiped the sleeve of his shirt across his lips and saw it come away streaked red with fresh blood. Pressing the fingertips of one hand to the area under his left eye, he winced at the bruised, battered spot, feeling the hot skin already beginning to swell. He dropped his hand and peered over to the teenager, wanting to reach out and offer comfort but feeling fairly certain it would be vehemently rejected. Instead, he cleared his throat, managed to get his damaged lips to work, and spoke.
"I deserved that, Tony," he managed and saw the teen's shoulders tighten, "and anything else you want to throw my way but let's be honest with one another now, okay? There's a young man waiting for you up in the cabin and, if I'm not mistaken, those who know about him think he's your lover. I know you. You wouldn't enter into that kind of relationship without feeling something deep."
"You self-righteous, dumb prick," Tony sighed and turned still-angry eyes toward the man sitting directly to his right, "you don't know what the fuck you're talking about."
Gibbs was confused. "Kevin isn't your lover?"
"No."
"But," he frowned and tilted his head to one side, "you've been with him since my wedding and he's...he's here with you now."
"So?"
"So?" Now he was really confused. "If he's not your lover, what is he to you?"
"It's none of your business, Jethro," Tony's voice was calming, slowly growing distant, detatched. "What Kevin and I have is strictly between Kevin and me. I don't have to explain the dynamics of it to you or anyone else."
Gibbs didn't like the tone he detected and risked the chance of another injury by scooting a bit closer. "You're telling me you've been intimate with him all this time and you don't love him? Tony, I don't understand."
The youth shrugged and raised his face, looking out over the water again. "We can provide what the other asks for."
Again, like with Kevin's mysterious, ambiguous response, Gibbs was nothing but baffled. "What *do* you feel for him?"
Tony finally turned and nailed the ex-Marine with hard, green eyes. "That's the beauty of the relationship, Jethro. I don't have to *feel* anything. When we decide to get together, I've simply got a companion. If we want to get something to eat, we go out. If we want to take in a movie, we go to the theater. If we want sex, we have sex. No strings, no entanglements, no pressures for something more. We're fuck buddies...it's as simple as that."
"But that's so...so empty."
"It's all I want, Jethro, and it's all I have left in me now to give to someone else. Kevin knows it, excepts it. When I leave for OSU later this summer, he'll stay in the DC area and get on with his life. If we meet up again somewhere down the line, so be it. But we'll have no regrets, no hard feelings, and no need to make promises for things we both know will never happen. It's what I am now and he understands."
"No, you're not like that..."
"Haven't you heard a single word I've said?" Tony lashed tiredly out and grabbed a handful of Gibbs' shirt, bunching the fabric in one, tight fist. "I want empty. I *crave* empty. I can't *afford* to get sucked into anything for anyone again. If I do, well, let's just put it this way...I know I won't be able to survive it."
This close to the teen, Gibbs could see the aching emptiness in the once vibrant eyes, could hear the echo of an empty heart, and knew, without a shadow of doubt, this was all his doing. He'd taken away Tony's desire to fully love another human being and, in it's place, left this damaged and broken spirit. He lowered his head in shame and covered his face with his hands.
"Oh, God, Tony," he whispered brokenly, "what have I done to you? What can I say or do to make this right? Please, I can't leave you like this, I don't *want* to leave you like this. I don't want to leave *you*. You've always had a part of my heart, even when I didn't want to recognize it."
"Stop it..."
"No, I can't," he looked up, tears beginning to form in his blue eyes. "I pushed you away because I couldn't allow myself to get any closer to you than I was. I had to keep up the charade, keep the distance between us. You think that day in Syracuse didn't effect me? Well, you're wrong. I wanted you..."
"Stop it, please..."
"I wanted to feel your skin and I wanted to take you and make you mine but, God, Tony, you were *so* young and I had to put some distance between us, had to fit in with what was expected of me in society. It was difficult enough when Mike and I were together. You have *no* idea what he and I went through and we were the same age. Then you started edging your way in. God! There were times when all I could think about was you and I knew I had to find someone who could make me forget about the feelings I had for you."
"Please, don't do this..."
"I've got to, Tony. God, forgive me, if I don't do this now, before you send me away, I may never have the opportunity again," Gibbs covered Tony's hand with one of his own and held on to it tightly. "I loved you then and I love you now and I'm so sorry I've caused you all this pain and heartache. When I first met you, here at this cabin, I promised never to hurt you and, look, all I've ever done is bring you pain."
"That's...that's not true..."
"I pushed you away when all I really wanted to do was pull you closer. I took my anger out on you when I was really angry at myself. And I refused to acknowledge your love because it scared me."
"Scared you?" Tony questioned quietly, his eyes filled with compassion for the man. "What could possibly scare you?"
Gibbs blinked and swallowed thickly, knowing he had to press on and get all of it out in the open. He looked into the green eyes and spoke.
"You scared me, Tony. I never had anyone offer me such unconditional love before in my whole life. Mike was the best thing I ever had because we were so much alike and being with him was almost like being with another version of myself. We liked the same things, we thought the same way, we were so damned comfortable with each other. We were able to merge our public and private lives without much effort because of who we were. But you...God...you were *so* young and vibrant, like this intensely bright light that just made everything and everyone else seem so much dimmer. I felt a connection with you the first time you spoke to me, up there in the cabin, telling me to call you 'Tony' and that you really needed to pee. Remember?" He had to grin at the memory and was gladened to see one spark on Tony's face as well. "There you were, all of six-years old, and already working your way into my heart."
Tony broke free of the hold and pushed to his feet, walking a few steps away and hugging his arms close around his chest. He swayed slightly, stunned by the words, wanting to believe but afraid to take that risk again.
"Please, don't do this to me now..." he pleaded brokenly, voice barely above a whisper.
Gibbs joined him quickly, standing directly at his side, letting his shoulder press tightly against the youth's. He, too, looked out at the surface of the bay but every fiber of his being was focused totally on the youth.
"I know I don't have any right to say these things to you now, that I lost any chance we might have had the moment I raised my hand to you in Manassas, but I want you to know I *won't* stop trying to get you to forgive me, that I'll keep coming back and asking for it because, whether you want to believe it or not, I *do* love you, Tony. I do."
"Please..." It was a pain-filled whisper now but Tony was beginning to let some of his weight rest against Gibbs, allowing the contact. "I can't let you back in...I just can't."
"Maybe not *now*, you can't," Gibbs turned and grabbed the teen by the upper arms, "but one day you might. One day you might find there's plenty more in your heart than there is now, that there's still some feeling for me. So, I'll just keep trying until that day arrives."
Tony raised his haunted eyes and searched Gibbs' face, looking closely for any sign of untruth or deception. He felt torn, wanted so much to believe the wonderful words but keenly recalled the terrible pain of rejection. Carefully, he pulled out of the grasp.
"I can't do this, Jethro. I just don't have it in me anymore," he looked away from the man and let his desolate eyes travel up toward the cabin. "All I can give anyone now is what I'm giving to Kevin..."
"Then give what you can to him and don't hold back. Enjoy the moments you have together and be glad to have someone willing to share your life. But, when you go away to college and leave him behind, I'm going to still be here. Do you hear me? I will still be here for you. I don't care if it takes you weeks or months or, even, years...I'm still going to here waiting for you to give me another chance. I love you, Tony. I'll wait for however long you need."
"I...I don't...I can't..." Tony stumbled on the words, clearly at battle with his emotions.
Gibbs took a step away and offered a small smile. "It's okay, Tony, you don't need to say anything else now. I'm going to leave and head on back to Virginia and get on with my life, too. We've both got big changes to face in our lives and, although it would be great to face them together, it's just not time for that now." He took another step away. "I'll be thinking about you and hoping you're considering all I've said today. Take care of yourself, Tony, and if you ever need anything, please don't hesitate to give me a call. Okay?"
Tony nodded silently and could only stare at Gibbs, watching as the ex-Marine smiled one last time and then turned, walking slowly back toward his rented vehicle. The man was almost at his car when he heard the teenager call out to him.
"Jethro!"
Gibbs whirled and looked back toward the dock, seeing the anxious expression on the young face he loved so much. He held his breath and waited.
"Would...would it be okay if I called you when I got to school? Just, you know, to let you know when I get settled in?"
Gibbs smiled widely, his heart lifting for the first time in a very long while. He looked down at the ground, quickly offered silent thanks, and lifted his eyes to refocus back on the teenager.
"I'd like that, Tony. I'd really like that a lot."
Tony smiled shyly and nodded, raising a hand to wave a final farewell to the man he'd known since childhood. Gibbs stood for only a moment longer before re-entering his car, looking out over the wide expanse of Great Neck Bay, and enjoying the sights one last time before beginning the return trip home. He never looked back at the Tony as he stood on the dock and, as he pulled away from the cabin and headed down the familiar road with all it's recognizable landmarks, he realized he'd, indeed, come full circle in his relationship with the teen.
Once upon a time, some twelve years ago, little Tony DiNozzo had stepped into Jethro Gibbs' life and turned it completely upside down. Now, as one part of their relationship was ending, a new, more promising part was just getting ready to start and they would both have the chance at finding what they had always missed the most in their life: each other.
FIN
Story Notes:
This part of the story has been completed for a long time but I'm just posting it here now. Sorry for the delay. Instead of breaking it down into individual parts, here's the whole 'year' at one time.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Surprises, confrontations, changes, and some very hard decisions in store for both Gibbs and DiNozzo.
Chapter End Notes:
This part of the story has been completed for a long time but I'm just posting it here now. Sorry for the delay. Instead of breaking it down into individual parts, here's the whole 'year' at one time.