"Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child that is the inheritor of our fear. Let him not love the earth too deeply. Let him not laugh too gladly when the water runs through his fingers, nor stand too silent when the setting sun makes red the veld with fire. Let him not be too moved when the birds of his land are singing, nor give too much of his heart to a mountain or a valley. For fear will rob him of all if he gives too much."
- Alan Paton - Cry, The Beloved Country

Let Him Not Love The Earth Too Deeply

Chapter 1

Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo had a secret.

Actually, he had a lot of secrets: secrets about the truth of his childhood, about who he loved and how deeply, about what his actual likes and dislikes were, about his true personality. He couldn't help it. Secrets were as natural as breathing to him.

If nobody knew the truth, then nobody could use it to hurt him.

He had built his walls tall and thick, each brick a piece of misdirection or half-truth that kept people from seeing what he kept so carefully hidden away. He kept himself tucked safely back where nobody could touch him, nobody could take away from him, nobody could harm him.

He had hurt enough and lost enough. He would hold on to what he had left; he would rather die than give it up. There had never been anybody who both wanted to be let in and was trustworthy enough to be allowed past the idiotic frat boy public image to the soft underbelly of his inner workings. Nobody had been found worthy.

At least, not until now.

~***N*C*I*S***~

As secrets go, on the surface this one seemed rather silly. It had started in childhood, oddly enough, and Tony had held fast to it through his disinheritance and subsequent reinvention of himself at military school all the way through to his arrival and tenure at NCIS. He kept a storage facility in every city he lived where he could stash away the various bits of paraphernalia that brought his secret to life. He added to and improved said collection whenever he could, paying cash to leave no trail and slinking away to the storage bay when he was sure nobody was watching. He rented it under an old undercover alias that had long ago been forgotten by everyone but himself.

It looked paranoid and probably was, but Tony had stopped trusting so long ago that he couldn't remember what it felt like. He circled around his secret like a dragon dreaming atop its hoard of treasure, and his wrath when it seemed like somebody was getting too close was just as fierce.

It was nothing illegal or immoral or really even mildly questionable, but it went against his public image too much to admit to. The party boy mask, 1000 thread count sheets, movie quotes, fancy suits, and muscle cars were fine, but this... this would change everything.

~***N*C*I*S***~

The truth was that Tony liked the outdoors.

Not just liked, but loved; reveled in, really. Hiking, camping, fishing, kayaking, horseback riding, stargazing - he did it all. Every chance he got, he slipped away to the great outdoors, away from the hustle and bustle of the city with its noise, traffic, pollution, lights, and people... so many people all the time. Tony liked people, he really did, but sometimes he just wanted to be alone for a while, quiet and free to be himself without an audience. Mother Nature didn't care who he was or what he did for a living. She placed the same demands upon him as she did everyone else; she was uncaring and impartial in a way that Tony found to be very liberating. He did not have to perform for her, merely survive.

It was hard to find time to get away with the demands of his job, but Tony made due. He left his primary cell phone at home when he slipped away, forwarding the number but not the GPS location to a second phone. Rule 3 was sacred; Tony wouldn't dream of violating it. It did limit his options to places that still had service, but Tony thought it worth the effort.

If it was a school night or he was on call, Tony wouldn't plan on spending the night or going too far. He would drive out of the city to stargaze or head for a horse farm where he had an arrangement with the owners to rent a horse and ride the gentle trails, always being sure to arrive back at his apartment at a decent hour. On weekends when he wasn't on call, he camped in one of the nearby state parks, hiking to remote spots and staying as far away from other people as he could. Sometimes he took his kayak to one of the local rivers and spent the day on the water, camping on the shore overnight and just enjoying the earth beneath him and the stars above.

Once or twice a year, Tony took vacation time and planned a more extensive camping experience. He made up stories of Caribbean cruises or Vegas getaways with old frat buddies, but they were just a cover. Not that he never hung out with the guys, but more than half of his wild vacations were nothing but a smokescreen.

He loved those times away more than anything. He planned them months in advance, scoping out prime hiking trails and parks. He meticulously packed and repacked his gear, making sure he had everything he could possibly need. He had been all over the United States over the years, starting this tradition long before he joined NCIS. Nobody knew where he really was and he made very sure to keep it that way.

When he couldn't get away from the city, he would jog in Rock Creek Park or play football with some buddies in one of the various parks in the city. At least then he could be outside in the sunshine and fresh(ish) air, and sports were an acceptable and enjoyable activity that fit his persona. His post-plague lungs were a lot better than they had any right to be, all things considered, and Tony was very thankful that they didn't hold him back in his pursuit of the outdoors.

Tony had never before wanted to share his hobby with anyone else. He had thought about telling Wendy and was ultimately glad he hadn't as they didn't work out. He had been secretly amused at McGee's scouting activities and had laughed himself sick when the Probie got poison ivy, but he didn't admit to his shared affection for all things outdoors. He had an image to maintain; sometimes Tony felt it was all he had.

As Tony grew closer to his teammates, the urge to share his secret with them slowly grew. He never could have told Kate; as much as he had loved her he knew she never would've let him hear the end of it. He would not have even considered telling the Probie before Somalia, but the harrowing shared experience that was Saleem had strengthened the bond between them enough that it did not seem so impossible anymore. Ziva did not share his passion, and after everything with Rivkin he wasn't too sure of his position with her. Besides, she was still trying to put herself back together after four months in hell and didn't need his drama on top of her own problems. He trusted Abby more than just about anybody, but she had a tendency to blab the truth without thinking sometimes. Tony didn’t want to risk it. Ducky and Palmer were both good at keeping secrets, but Rule Four kept Tony’s mouth firmly shut.

Ultimately, though, it wasn’t McGee, Ziva, Abby, Ducky, or Palmer that he told. In fact, he didn't actually tell anybody. He should have known that he couldn't keep a secret from Gibbs forever. The man really was magic; his ability to know things he shouldn't and appear out of thin air had manifested itself enough times that Tony hadn't been surprised, not really, when it all came crashing down.

~***N*C*I*S***~

"Something you want to share, DiNozzo?"

Tony froze, unable to move or reply or even breathe for a few moments as the shock of being discovered washed over him. His brain scrambled to find an explanation or, failing that, at least a misdirection until he could regroup. He turned slowly away from the entryway of his storage unit to lock eyes with Gibbs and stayed silent under that icy glare. He never could lie to the man, not like this when they were alone and Gibbs was looking at him like he could see right through him and there were no ready-made distractions available to redirect his focus.

Gibbs continued to stare at him in silence, and Tony knew he was going to break. Gibbs had destroyed many a suspect in interrogation with nothing but the power of his glare, and Tony, although well used to it, couldn’t hold up against him when he was lying and feeling guilty for it.

“Uh, hey, Boss. Fancy running into you out here.” Tony knew he was stalling, some small part of him still scrambling to find an explanation that would leave his secret intact. He thought briefly again about lying, an excuse involving picking up equipment for a frat buddy already forming on his tongue, but, caught as he was in Gibb’s glare, he knew it would never work. He wasn’t stupid enough to lie to the man’s face so blatantly, especially with such a lame excuse that wouldn’t fool the man for any longer than it would take for the echo of his words to fade.

Tony’s voice trailed off as Gibb’s eyebrow rose, pinned under those blue eyes like a bug on a board. Gibbs looked… almost amused under that glare. It was subtle, but the loose set of his shoulders and the lines that crinkled ever so slightly around his eyes combined with the raised eyebrow told Tony that Gibbs wasn’t angry, merely curious and at least somewhat entertained.

Tony’s eyes flicked from Gibb’s face to the air around them and back again as he nervously licked his lips. He really, really didn’t want to do this right now. He had planned on grabbing some gear and heading for Shenandoah National Park to camp, ready to enjoy the Memorial Day weekend alone and, for once, not on call. He hadn’t counted on Gibbs showing up, had no defense ready that would hold water.

Tony had been distracted on his way over, his mind evenly split between the horrible case they had just wrapped up that day and the fastest route to his destination. He hadn’t noticed the yellow Challenger following him to the storage facility or seen it park down the street. There had been no chance, none at all, of him hearing Gibbs sneaking up on him. Tony was convinced that the former Marine could walk silently through a field of bubble wrap if he so chose. It was only his years of experience dealing with his boss sneaking up on him that had kept Tony from jumping in startled surprise at his question.

Gibb’s gaze moved past Tony to the contents of the storage unit behind him, and his eyebrow climbed a bit higher as his eyes moved over the contents. Various hiking and camping gear was neatly organized within, and Tony’s kayak rested prominently on a pair of sawhorses in the center of the unit. His fishing pole, tackle box, hiking pack, sleeping roll, boots, and other odds and ends were in a neat pile and ready to go. Tony had swung by the weekend before (on call, of course) to prepare his gear for the trip. He wanted to be in and out and on the road as quickly as possible.

Looks like that’s not happening now, Tony thought to himself.

“Going camping, Tony?”

The use of his first name both surprised and relieved Tony. Gibbs using his first name meant he wasn’t angry. Tony hated it when Gibbs was angry with him. Oh, he loved irritating the man because that meant he had Gibb’s attention, and Tony lived for Gibb’s attention. But when Gibbs was angry, really angry, with Tony, he got that dangerous sort of quiet that Tony dreaded. When Gibbs got well and truly pissed he stopped talking to Tony, stopped looking at him, stopped listening to him; he shut Tony out completely and retreated to a place where Tony could never reach him until he was ready to be reached. It drove Tony almost over the edge every time that happened, sure that this time Gibbs would throw him out, kick him off the team, send him away, just like everyone else had when Tony pushed a bit too hard or went too far.

Gibbs never did, though, no matter how angry he got. He always let Tony back into his space. He might take a while to cool off, but he never shut Tony out permanently. Tony could never completely relax, though, sure that someday the other shoe would drop and it would all be over. Even after nine years with the man, Tony wasn’t sure of his place in his boss’s life. He thought they were friends, but Gibbs could be so hard to read sometimes that Tony often felt wrong-footed around him outside of work. He went over for beers and cowboy steaks, watched him work on the boat in his basement while he rambled away, caught the game together on that sorry excuse for a TV. He spent the night sometimes in Gibb’s guest room, either after too many beers and bourbons or when the heat went out in his apartment or some other catastrophe left it unlivable for a few days. Despite all of this, there were times when Tony had no idea what Gibbs thought of him; sometimes he saw an expression on Gibbs face and in his eyes that Tony just couldn’t place and didn’t know what to do with. Gibbs would notice Tony looking and slide seamlessly into a neutral expression. It felt a bit like having a door slammed in his face; Tony always felt thrown off-balance, though he didn’t show it.

Tony shook his head briefly, bringing his thoughts back to the present and to Gibbs standing in front of him, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah, Boss, I was planning on heading to Shenandoah to camp for the weekend. I’ll be back sometime Monday.” Tony smiled his thousand-megawatt smile, hoping that Gibbs would just leave it be, would turn around and walk away with a wave goodbye and go back to his basement. Of course, he knew it wouldn’t be that simple, but a man could dream.

“Since when do you camp?” Gibbs asked.

It was a fair question, and expected, but Tony wasn’t sure how to answer it. The whole story would take too long and require too much of him, but he couldn’t lie, either. Gibbs was like a bulldog on a bone when it came to ferreting out the truth. Tony sighed and shrugged his shoulders in response before turning to grab some of his gear and put it in his truck.

Oh crap, his truck!

Gibbs didn’t know that he owned a truck, of course. He had bought it used years ago (with cash, of course) in his alias’ name and kept it parked on a side street a few blocks from his apartment. It was nothing fancy, but it ran well and could haul his gear and kayak with no problem. Tony had kept it a secret just like everything else. When his Corvette was stolen and his Mustang blown up he hadn’t driven the truck to work, afraid that somebody would figure out that it was his and call him out on it.

How was he going to explain all of this to Gibbs? It made him look completely ridiculous, he was sure, and that was saying something considering the man built boats in his basement.

Tony did the only thing he could do at the moment; he ignored the proverbial elephant currently dancing a jig between them and kept loading his truck, not meeting his boss’s eyes. He could feel Gibb’s gaze boring into him, knew the man was barely holding his questions in check. Gibbs knew that if he just waited long enough his SFA would break. He always did.

“Want some company?”

Tony’s eyes immediately snapped to Gibb’s face, his whole body stiffening in surprise yet again. Of all the scenarios he had played out in his mind over the years, this was not one of them. He had expected questions, anger, suspicion, demands… but not a simple offer of companionship. He knew Gibbs wasn’t stupid; the man had seen through his frat boy act from the beginning. He was sure that his boss was already putting the pieces together, collating facts and scraps of information gleaned over years of subtle observation to come up with the truth on his own as to Tony’s past activities and the now obviously dubious veracity of his claims regarding past frat-boy vacation hijinks.

Gibbs never liked being lied to, especially not by his team, and Tony was surprised that Gibbs wasn’t angry with him. Perhaps he was, and this was the calm before the storm. Perhaps Gibbs wanted to get him alone so that he could explode at him with no witnesses. Yes, that was it. Tony was sure of it.

Oh, well. Might as well get this over with. Tony was already drafting his resignation letter in his head; he wondered if Fornell’s offer of a job at the FBI still stood. Becoming a Feebie wasn't his first choice, but it would do in a pinch.

“Sure, Boss. We can swing by your place to pick up a few things before we set out.” Tony thought he did a good job of keeping his voice normal, his body language relaxed. He always had been excellent undercover, and he put those skills to good use now, resigned as he was to his fate.

Gibbs just smiled a bit at him and turned back to his car. Tony figured that Gibbs would get to his house far enough ahead of Tony to have everything ready by the time Tony got there. Tony hadn’t packed enough food for two, but a quick stop at the store would remedy that.

Tony swallowed hard as he turned back to his storage unit to finish loading his truck, his shoulders slumping slightly as he heard the distant sound of Gibbs' car pulling away into the late spring evening.