How To Relate: Chapter 14
Title: How To Relate
Author: justhowthisgoes
Fandom: NCIS
Category: Hurt/Comfort/Family
Pairing: None
Rating: T
Spoilers: Up to Season 7
Summary: Tony has been getting threatening letters and the team is worried, but Tony isn't taking them seriously. Then come the attempts on his life. Could the new girl at NCIS be involved? And what secrets from Tony's past will be revealed in the search?
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply.
Chapter 14
…We Need Umbrellas On The Inside
Tony felt terrible, in more ways than one; he had let his guard down, gotten hurt, and as a result, Ali was now missing without a trace.
Not only that, but he was also mildly incapacitated, loopy and sick from painkillers, and unable to even help the team with the case. Ziva and Gibbs, in particular, would be working considerable overtime because of his screw-up.
He was so absorbed in his thoughts that it took him a minute to realize McGee was talking to him.
"Tony. You need to drink something. Ducky said so."
"Yeah. I know," Tony replied dully. He accepted the glass of water that McGee held out to him and took a sip. "It's warm," he remarked.
"Tony, you have a concussion and you've been throwing up," McGee said. "You'll only be sick again if you drink cold water. It's a shock to your system when you're dehydrated. This way, you'll retain some fluid easier."
"Oh. Hmm," Tony mused. "That's smart. Thanks, Pro- Tim."
McGee watched him carefully.
Tony had barely said a word on the drive over, and now he just sat on the couch, his knees pulled into his chest, staring off into space. McGee knew the other man well enough to know that when he was quiet and listless like this that something was very wrong, but right now he had no idea how to make him feel any better. Or how to break the silence.
Eventually Tony did that for him. "You know, I almost had a little sister once."
McGee was taken aback. "I didn't know that."
He nodded. "Yeah. At least that's what my mother said. Of course, there's no way she could have known the baby would be a girl, but she insisted. She'd always said that she wanted one of each. I suspect what she wanted really was another plaything." He gave a cynical laugh. "I mean, I wore the sailor suits, but she couldn't dress me up as a princess or a ballerina."
Tony was silent for a long moment and McGee thought that perhaps he had fallen asleep, but then he continued.
"After… she lost the baby, she found out she couldn't have any more kids and she got really depressed. I was barely seven then. I didn't really understand why she was so sad all the time or why she wouldn't play with me anymore or why she was always drinking."
McGee was surprised at these frank admissions from Tony, who was usually reticent about personal things like his childhood, but he guessed that they were likely due to the combination of painkillers, exhaustion, and helplessness in the face of the events of the night.
Tony sighed. "You've heard about the sea-monkeys, right?"
At McGee's affirmative nod, he let out a faint huff of amusement. "Yeah. I was eight then. It would have actually been kind of funny if I hadn't been so scared of her at that point. Not because she was a mean drunk or anything-she wasn't. Just because she wasn't… her, you know? But when it was so bad that she couldn't tell the difference between my sea-monkeys and her mint julep, I ran outside, climbed up the big pine tree in our backyard, and wouldn't come down for anything. I mean, I always used to play around on it a lot, go there when I wanted to hide and stuff like that. But that day I climbed all the way to the top and just refused to come down. Truthfully, I wasn't even sure that she'd notice."
A ghost of a smile glimmered on Tony's face. "But she did: she called the fire department and everything. And after they got me down, she yelled at me and told me if I ever did something like that again I wouldn't be able to sit for a week. Then she just broke down crying and she said that I had scared her and she didn't want to lose me too. And you know, as bad as I felt for making her cry, I couldn't help but think that that was one of the only times she ever acted like a real mom, instead of just handing me off to a nanny."
He stared down at his hands intensely, as if looking for something hidden there that would put everything right. "I don't think I can do it right, Tim. I don't think I can be a big brother. I don't think I know how to have a family at all, as screwed up as mine was. And I don't know if I ever will."
McGee wished he had the right words to reassure his friend. "You know, I used to wish sometimes that I had a big brother, to teach me how to do things, to tease me, to stick up for me." He looked up in sudden realization. "I'm no expert, but it seems to me that you'd make a pretty good one, Tony."
Tony half-smiled at this. "You think?"
"Yeah, I do." McGee told him honestly.
"Thanks, Tim." Tony blinked and nearly forgot to un-blink, surprised at how heavy his eyelids suddenly were.
McGee noticed his struggle to stay awake.
"Go to sleep Tony. I've got your six."
Tony nodded and relaxed, soon dropping off to sleep.
Settling into the armchair-with his gun out and ready just in case-McGee set the alarm on his phone to go off in an hour.
It could be hard to reconcile these two different sides of Tony: the cocky, self-assured, jokester façade that he showed to the world, and this other that he strove to keep hidden; serious, brooding, troubled.
McGee had caught glimpses of the latter, usually when Tony was particularly stressed or vulnerable, but these instances were few and far between, and afterward they both slipped back into routine and acted like nothing had happened.
He doubted that this time would be any different.When McGee's alarm went off the second hour, Tony was tossing and mumbling in his sleep. McGee was about to wake him, when he suddenly sat upright, gasping, and bolted for the bathroom. McGee cringed as he heard the awful retching sounds.
When Tony came out, McGee looked him over with a critical eye.
"Tony, are you feeling worse? Do I need to call Ducky?"
"No, I'm fine… that's not why… I'm fine, really." Tony shivered a little, his eyes two dark hollows in his pale face. "It's just…"
"A nightmare?" McGee guessed.
Tony said nothing, but met his gaze briefly in tacit answer. McGee was unnerved at the sheer anguish and torment evident in the other man's haunted eyes; his usual mask had been wholly abandoned.
"Do… do you want to talk about it?" he asked tentatively, not sure whether Tony would take him up on the offer.
Tony slumped back on the couch and looked anywhere but at McGee, his hands clenched tightly into fists. "Do you want to hear it?"
The challenge was implicit.
McGee hesitated before replying. Did he?
"You can tell me anything, Tony."
Tony looked up, searching McGee's face as if deciding whether he meant it, then continued in a low voice. "Thanks Tim. That means a lot."
He gave a bleak sigh.
"Well, after that day with the sea-monkeys and the tree, my mother was trying to get better. For me, she said. And then I was in the school play- bet you never would've pegged me as a drama geek, huh McGee?" Tony lifted the corners of his mouth slightly, but it was a dim copy of his usual high-wattage beam. "Of course, that was the last time I ever did a play… It was The Three Musketeers and I played Aramis. It was a good role and I really wanted my mother to see me. I wanted her to be proud of me. So I asked her to come and she promised she would, even though she hadn't been out of the house in ages."
Tony swallowed hard. "That night, I looked for her in the audience, but she wasn't there. I was pretty crushed; I'd been so sure that she'd keep her promise. Then after the performance was over, no one even came to pick me up. I waited and watched as everyone else left with their parents, one by one, until finally I was sitting on the edge of the stage all by myself. Eventually the janitor had to kick me out so he could lock up, though I could tell he felt bad. I ended up walking home in the rain and the dark. I remember I was so angry at her for forgetting me…"
Tony seemed to look right through McGee, fully in the past for the moment, then drew in a shuddery breath and went on.
"Then when I got home and I went inside, the police were there. Nobody even had to tell me; I knew right away. It was like the whole world changed forever, right that second. She had tried to keep her promise, you know? She tried to come. But the road was slick and she lost control..." Tony lost the tenuous hold on his emotions and let a tear escape, something McGee had never seen him do before. "I went straight to the backyard, climbed up the tree, and stayed there all night…"
When Tony paused, the room was so silent that McGee could hear his own heart beating and a clock ticking softly in the next room.
"No one came to get me down that time."
Several minutes ticked by before McGee could think of what he should say. "I'm sorry man. That must've been really tough."
Tony seemed to come out of a sort of trance.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I guess. I think it was probably harder on my father. He started drinking more after that. A lot more. And he went from being distant to pretty much ignoring me completely. He'd be gone for days or even weeks at a time. The three B's: business trips, bars, and bimbos." He scoffed bitterly. "When he was actually at home, he barely acknowledged me. And I know he blamed me for the accident. I mean, he never actually said it was my fault, but sometimes actions speak louder than words."
"How could it have been your fault?" McGee asked, indignant on Tony's part. "You were only a kid."
Tony shrugged. "Because I asked her to come."
At the calm, matter-of-fact way that Tony stated this, McGee closed his eyes. How could a father let his child think such a thing?
"Tony, it was not your fault."
"Oh, I know that," he quickly assured McGee.
A little too quickly.
McGee locked eyes with him. "Do you really?"
Tony looked away and sighed. "Well, logically, rationally, I know that it couldn't have been my fault. But it doesn't change how I feel, and it doesn't change the fact that people who are close to me always seem to end up getting hurt or killed. I mean, besides my mother, Kate was shot right in front of me and Paula was blown up. Let's not even get into the whole Jeanne debacle or the blown protection detail with Jenny. And, I was the reason Ziva stayed in Israel and ended up captured and tortured in Somalia… It's like I'm cursed or something."
"Tony, you're not cursed."
Tony wasn't really listening. "I can't believe I let this happen." His eyes flashed angrily. "Well, I'll be damned if I let Ali get hurt because of me."
"She won't. We'll find her." McGee put conviction into his voice.
Tony sighed. "And, you know, this whole thing is so crazy. I mean, I just met her really, and I already feel so… protective, I guess. Is that what having a little sister is supposed to feel like?"
McGee considered this, thinking of his relationship with his own sister. "Well, yeah, I guess it kind of is. I know that no matter how grown-up Sarah gets, I'll still always be looking out for her. That's just what you do when you're a big brother."
Tony looked thoughtful. "Tim, you know I was just kidding yesterday, right?"
McGee let out a short laugh. "I don't doubt it, but what do you mean?"
"You know, when I headslapped you for looking at Ali. I know you like her, Tim. And I know that I don't know her any better than you do right now, but she is my sister. So… I just wanted to let you know that, well, that it's ok with me."
Tim looked at him in surprise. He'd been expecting more opposition from Tony on his feelings for Ali.
"I mean it. You're a good guy, Tim, and you're my friend. And I think you'd be good for each other."
A look of understanding passed between the two men.
"Just as long as… as long as…" the choked words stuck in Tony's throat and he couldn't finish.
"She'll be all right Tony." Tim assured him. "If she's anything at all like you she'll be fine."
Tim barely heard the mumble as Tony turned his head away and fell into an uneasy sleep. "I hope you're right."
...
Chapter 15
Author: justhowthisgoes
Fandom: NCIS
Category: Hurt/Comfort/Family
Pairing: None
Rating: T
Spoilers: Up to Season 7
Summary: Tony has been getting threatening letters and the team is worried, but Tony isn't taking them seriously. Then come the attempts on his life. Could the new girl at NCIS be involved? And what secrets from Tony's past will be revealed in the search?
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply.
Chapter 14
…We Need Umbrellas On The Inside
Tony felt terrible, in more ways than one; he had let his guard down, gotten hurt, and as a result, Ali was now missing without a trace.
Not only that, but he was also mildly incapacitated, loopy and sick from painkillers, and unable to even help the team with the case. Ziva and Gibbs, in particular, would be working considerable overtime because of his screw-up.
He was so absorbed in his thoughts that it took him a minute to realize McGee was talking to him.
"Tony. You need to drink something. Ducky said so."
"Yeah. I know," Tony replied dully. He accepted the glass of water that McGee held out to him and took a sip. "It's warm," he remarked.
"Tony, you have a concussion and you've been throwing up," McGee said. "You'll only be sick again if you drink cold water. It's a shock to your system when you're dehydrated. This way, you'll retain some fluid easier."
"Oh. Hmm," Tony mused. "That's smart. Thanks, Pro- Tim."
McGee watched him carefully.
Tony had barely said a word on the drive over, and now he just sat on the couch, his knees pulled into his chest, staring off into space. McGee knew the other man well enough to know that when he was quiet and listless like this that something was very wrong, but right now he had no idea how to make him feel any better. Or how to break the silence.
Eventually Tony did that for him. "You know, I almost had a little sister once."
McGee was taken aback. "I didn't know that."
He nodded. "Yeah. At least that's what my mother said. Of course, there's no way she could have known the baby would be a girl, but she insisted. She'd always said that she wanted one of each. I suspect what she wanted really was another plaything." He gave a cynical laugh. "I mean, I wore the sailor suits, but she couldn't dress me up as a princess or a ballerina."
Tony was silent for a long moment and McGee thought that perhaps he had fallen asleep, but then he continued.
"After… she lost the baby, she found out she couldn't have any more kids and she got really depressed. I was barely seven then. I didn't really understand why she was so sad all the time or why she wouldn't play with me anymore or why she was always drinking."
McGee was surprised at these frank admissions from Tony, who was usually reticent about personal things like his childhood, but he guessed that they were likely due to the combination of painkillers, exhaustion, and helplessness in the face of the events of the night.
Tony sighed. "You've heard about the sea-monkeys, right?"
At McGee's affirmative nod, he let out a faint huff of amusement. "Yeah. I was eight then. It would have actually been kind of funny if I hadn't been so scared of her at that point. Not because she was a mean drunk or anything-she wasn't. Just because she wasn't… her, you know? But when it was so bad that she couldn't tell the difference between my sea-monkeys and her mint julep, I ran outside, climbed up the big pine tree in our backyard, and wouldn't come down for anything. I mean, I always used to play around on it a lot, go there when I wanted to hide and stuff like that. But that day I climbed all the way to the top and just refused to come down. Truthfully, I wasn't even sure that she'd notice."
A ghost of a smile glimmered on Tony's face. "But she did: she called the fire department and everything. And after they got me down, she yelled at me and told me if I ever did something like that again I wouldn't be able to sit for a week. Then she just broke down crying and she said that I had scared her and she didn't want to lose me too. And you know, as bad as I felt for making her cry, I couldn't help but think that that was one of the only times she ever acted like a real mom, instead of just handing me off to a nanny."
He stared down at his hands intensely, as if looking for something hidden there that would put everything right. "I don't think I can do it right, Tim. I don't think I can be a big brother. I don't think I know how to have a family at all, as screwed up as mine was. And I don't know if I ever will."
McGee wished he had the right words to reassure his friend. "You know, I used to wish sometimes that I had a big brother, to teach me how to do things, to tease me, to stick up for me." He looked up in sudden realization. "I'm no expert, but it seems to me that you'd make a pretty good one, Tony."
Tony half-smiled at this. "You think?"
"Yeah, I do." McGee told him honestly.
"Thanks, Tim." Tony blinked and nearly forgot to un-blink, surprised at how heavy his eyelids suddenly were.
McGee noticed his struggle to stay awake.
"Go to sleep Tony. I've got your six."
Tony nodded and relaxed, soon dropping off to sleep.
Settling into the armchair-with his gun out and ready just in case-McGee set the alarm on his phone to go off in an hour.
It could be hard to reconcile these two different sides of Tony: the cocky, self-assured, jokester façade that he showed to the world, and this other that he strove to keep hidden; serious, brooding, troubled.
McGee had caught glimpses of the latter, usually when Tony was particularly stressed or vulnerable, but these instances were few and far between, and afterward they both slipped back into routine and acted like nothing had happened.
He doubted that this time would be any different.When McGee's alarm went off the second hour, Tony was tossing and mumbling in his sleep. McGee was about to wake him, when he suddenly sat upright, gasping, and bolted for the bathroom. McGee cringed as he heard the awful retching sounds.
When Tony came out, McGee looked him over with a critical eye.
"Tony, are you feeling worse? Do I need to call Ducky?"
"No, I'm fine… that's not why… I'm fine, really." Tony shivered a little, his eyes two dark hollows in his pale face. "It's just…"
"A nightmare?" McGee guessed.
Tony said nothing, but met his gaze briefly in tacit answer. McGee was unnerved at the sheer anguish and torment evident in the other man's haunted eyes; his usual mask had been wholly abandoned.
"Do… do you want to talk about it?" he asked tentatively, not sure whether Tony would take him up on the offer.
Tony slumped back on the couch and looked anywhere but at McGee, his hands clenched tightly into fists. "Do you want to hear it?"
The challenge was implicit.
McGee hesitated before replying. Did he?
"You can tell me anything, Tony."
Tony looked up, searching McGee's face as if deciding whether he meant it, then continued in a low voice. "Thanks Tim. That means a lot."
He gave a bleak sigh.
"Well, after that day with the sea-monkeys and the tree, my mother was trying to get better. For me, she said. And then I was in the school play- bet you never would've pegged me as a drama geek, huh McGee?" Tony lifted the corners of his mouth slightly, but it was a dim copy of his usual high-wattage beam. "Of course, that was the last time I ever did a play… It was The Three Musketeers and I played Aramis. It was a good role and I really wanted my mother to see me. I wanted her to be proud of me. So I asked her to come and she promised she would, even though she hadn't been out of the house in ages."
Tony swallowed hard. "That night, I looked for her in the audience, but she wasn't there. I was pretty crushed; I'd been so sure that she'd keep her promise. Then after the performance was over, no one even came to pick me up. I waited and watched as everyone else left with their parents, one by one, until finally I was sitting on the edge of the stage all by myself. Eventually the janitor had to kick me out so he could lock up, though I could tell he felt bad. I ended up walking home in the rain and the dark. I remember I was so angry at her for forgetting me…"
Tony seemed to look right through McGee, fully in the past for the moment, then drew in a shuddery breath and went on.
"Then when I got home and I went inside, the police were there. Nobody even had to tell me; I knew right away. It was like the whole world changed forever, right that second. She had tried to keep her promise, you know? She tried to come. But the road was slick and she lost control..." Tony lost the tenuous hold on his emotions and let a tear escape, something McGee had never seen him do before. "I went straight to the backyard, climbed up the tree, and stayed there all night…"
When Tony paused, the room was so silent that McGee could hear his own heart beating and a clock ticking softly in the next room.
"No one came to get me down that time."
Several minutes ticked by before McGee could think of what he should say. "I'm sorry man. That must've been really tough."
Tony seemed to come out of a sort of trance.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I guess. I think it was probably harder on my father. He started drinking more after that. A lot more. And he went from being distant to pretty much ignoring me completely. He'd be gone for days or even weeks at a time. The three B's: business trips, bars, and bimbos." He scoffed bitterly. "When he was actually at home, he barely acknowledged me. And I know he blamed me for the accident. I mean, he never actually said it was my fault, but sometimes actions speak louder than words."
"How could it have been your fault?" McGee asked, indignant on Tony's part. "You were only a kid."
Tony shrugged. "Because I asked her to come."
At the calm, matter-of-fact way that Tony stated this, McGee closed his eyes. How could a father let his child think such a thing?
"Tony, it was not your fault."
"Oh, I know that," he quickly assured McGee.
A little too quickly.
McGee locked eyes with him. "Do you really?"
Tony looked away and sighed. "Well, logically, rationally, I know that it couldn't have been my fault. But it doesn't change how I feel, and it doesn't change the fact that people who are close to me always seem to end up getting hurt or killed. I mean, besides my mother, Kate was shot right in front of me and Paula was blown up. Let's not even get into the whole Jeanne debacle or the blown protection detail with Jenny. And, I was the reason Ziva stayed in Israel and ended up captured and tortured in Somalia… It's like I'm cursed or something."
"Tony, you're not cursed."
Tony wasn't really listening. "I can't believe I let this happen." His eyes flashed angrily. "Well, I'll be damned if I let Ali get hurt because of me."
"She won't. We'll find her." McGee put conviction into his voice.
Tony sighed. "And, you know, this whole thing is so crazy. I mean, I just met her really, and I already feel so… protective, I guess. Is that what having a little sister is supposed to feel like?"
McGee considered this, thinking of his relationship with his own sister. "Well, yeah, I guess it kind of is. I know that no matter how grown-up Sarah gets, I'll still always be looking out for her. That's just what you do when you're a big brother."
Tony looked thoughtful. "Tim, you know I was just kidding yesterday, right?"
McGee let out a short laugh. "I don't doubt it, but what do you mean?"
"You know, when I headslapped you for looking at Ali. I know you like her, Tim. And I know that I don't know her any better than you do right now, but she is my sister. So… I just wanted to let you know that, well, that it's ok with me."
Tim looked at him in surprise. He'd been expecting more opposition from Tony on his feelings for Ali.
"I mean it. You're a good guy, Tim, and you're my friend. And I think you'd be good for each other."
A look of understanding passed between the two men.
"Just as long as… as long as…" the choked words stuck in Tony's throat and he couldn't finish.
"She'll be all right Tony." Tim assured him. "If she's anything at all like you she'll be fine."
Tim barely heard the mumble as Tony turned his head away and fell into an uneasy sleep. "I hope you're right."
...
Chapter 15