CHAPTER 2 - Home Truths

He was warm, sleepy, in a nice soft bed, but then someone pulled his sweater and shirt up and wiped his side with a wet cloth. "Cold." Tony licked his lips. Dry. He smelled the coppery scent of blood. "Hurts. Wha's goin' on?" he mumbled, reaching out to push the source of the pain away. His hand hit someone, hard enough for them to make a sound, but before he could strike out again, someone took hold of his hand. Their grip was sure, their palm rough. Jethro, he thought.

"Now, now, Anthony, you need to allow me to fix you up."

"Ducky?" Tony opened his eyes, just a sliver. Yep, it was the ME, playing doctor. Great. "Guess I stretched too much. Pop a stitch?"

"Three," Jethro said grimly, clasping his hand firmly.

"Jeth?" Tony tried to sit up but Jethro prevented it by laying a hand on his chest.

"Hold him still, will you, Jethro?" Ducky requested. "You, too, Timothy, Mr. Palmer."

Jethro's grip shifted to his forearm, and Tim held onto his other arm; Palmer was holding his ankles. When had they had arrived? Before Tony could ask if he had any say in the matter, he caught a glint of light shining on a hypodermic needle, and a second later, felt a sharp sting in his side. "Shit! Give a guy a warning," Tony complained. His friends, his lover – traitors, all of them – held him securely while Ducky stuck him twice more with the needle. By the time he'd finished, Tony was sweating and angry.

"I apologize, Anthony," said Ducky, "but I need to suture this wound as soon as possible, and I didn't have time to engage in a verbal skirmish with you about why this procedure is unnecessary, or how you are feeling 'fine.'"

Tony shook off the people who were holding his arms and legs, although their grip had already eased. He glared at McGee and Palmer, and then at Jethro, for taking part in what he considered a violation of his personal rights. "You didn't need to do that, Gibbs."

Jethro's face, when Tony called him Gibbs… it was plain that it hurt him, but at the moment Tony was still pissed off and his side was aching, and he didn't care. Plus, everyone was staring at him except for Ducky, who had an annoyingly patient expression on his face. "We must wait for this to become numb," Ducky explained. "Perhaps we should step out for a few minutes. It won't take long for it to take effect."

Tim and Jimmy mouthed apologies and left the small bedroom, followed by Ducky. Tony looked for Abby, but she was conspicuously absent. Then he remembered: his father. She was probably hugging the old man and telling him what a wonderful father he was, and how his own son didn't appreciate him. "Fuck," he muttered.

Jethro asked, "You'd prefer to go to the hospital?"

Tony sent him a look as if he were crazy. "And miss Christmas Eve? They'll have only one doctor, some sleep-deprived resident who's grossly overworked and probably forgot to wash his hands since the last patient. So, no."

"Then let Ducky fix you up and stop complaining," was Jethro's gruff response.

"You'd complain, too, if you woke up to find your side was on fire and everyone was ganging up on you!"

Jethro's eyes flashed in anger. "What were you thinking?"

"About what?" Tony asked, pretending he had no clue what Jethro was talking about.

"You getting up on that ladder and trying to hang the damn lights, that's what!"

Tony really didn't want to fight, so he took Jethro's hand and pulled him to sit on the bed at his side. He entreated, "Jethro… don't be mad. I thought, for once, I'd do something nice for you. You've been running around taking care of me and working at the same time for the past couple of weeks, and I've been a pain, and I appreciate it, and I just thought…"

Jethro's shoulders sagged, and he brought Tony's hand to his mouth. He closed his eyes and kissed the palm. "I need you to get better," he whispered. Raising his eyes to meet Tony's, he gave a small smile. "I hate seeing you in pain, and I hate that there's nothing I can do about it, except try to keep you safe."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I mean, I thought it was a good idea at the time." Tony pulled a face. "Guess not, huh?"

Jethro shook his head. "Lucky that Duck always carries a large emergency kit in his car."

"Lucky you had your hands full, taking care of me out there, or else you'd have punched my father," Tony said, finding some humor in the situation.

"Yeah, well, that may still happen before the night's over. But I don't care about him. I care about you, and I want you to get back on your feet, Tony. You've got to stop doing stupid things."

"Fine. I won't do anything else stupid, or, at least not until I'm all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed," Tony promised.

Jethro said, "And… don't call me Gibbs. Not like that."

"I won't. I didn't mean it." Tony tugged Jethro down for a kiss, and what was meant to be a brief, soft meeting of their lips became something more, with tongues tangling and angling of heads and someone – was that Jethro? – moaning.

As quickly as it had begun, it ended. Jethro pulled away, gasping. "Did I hurt you?"

Okay, so maybe it had been him who'd moaned. "No, I can't feel anything. Better tell Ducky my side's numb now." Tony smiled, suddenly feeling good. "I guess if I want more than kisses I'd better heal up quickly."

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Tony awoke, and a glance at the bedside clock told him it was seven. For a moment he thought it was morning but then he remembered what had happened, and saw it was dark outside. The area that Ducky had stitched up throbbed, a dull ache. Gingerly touching it, he found a heavy bandage taped in place. God, he was so tired of this. Getting shot by a scared seaman with shaky hands, and bleeding all over the company car while Jethro drove like a crazy man to the hospital had been bad enough, but the four-inch incision from where they'd had to open him up and dig around for the bullet shards hadn't healed properly. His little escapade on the ladder, trying to string those lights… damn, he'd messed up.

The sound of voices emanated from another room. Muffled. He could hear the clatter of dishes, clinking glasses. Laughter. Dining room, he thought. Sniffing, he detected the delicious aroma of cooked turkey. He hoped Jethro had tossed his dad out, because he really didn't want to face him.

He was contemplating getting up the door slowly opened. Abby stuck her head in. "Hey, Tony… just checking how you're doing."

"Good timing. You can help me up." With Abby's assistance, Tony rolled onto his good side and levered himself into a seated position, while keeping pressure the area over the incision. He said, "I keep picturing it's like a zip-lock bag, and if I twist the wrong way, it'll open up again."

Abby assured him Ducky had done a thorough job of cleaning the wound and suturing it again. She described the procedure in great detail until Tony asked her to stop. "I love watching him working on a live person," Abby said with a grin. Her smile faded and she sat beside Tony. "Your dad…"

Tony shook his head but he managed a small smile. "He get booted out into the frozen tundra yet?"

"That's not funny, Tony. He came all the way here to see you."

"He came here for his own benefit, believe me."

"He brought you a gift."

"You know he gives me power tools every year. I donate them to Habitat," Tony said with a shrug.

"I think you're being unreasonable and unfair and… and un-son-like," Abby said, pouting.

Tony really didn't want to have to tell Abby the truth, but this was a conversation that was long overdue. He took her hand and said, "Abby, I need to you listen to me, to hear me. Will you do that?"

She must have seen how serious he was because she nodded. "Okay. Only…I don't really want to hear this, do I?"

"No, but you need to." After a big sigh, Tony said, "My father is a conman who has made it his lifelong business to swindle and defraud people, both in small and very large ways. He's been after my trust fund for years and that's why he's here tonight. He's what they used to call a slippery fellow. He's been the frontman for some of the biggest swindlers in the country for years; he's the guy they send out to warm up the room, seducing the widows and sucking up to the well-to-do, using every trick in the book to get them to invest in whatever his latest scheme is. He's very good at putting on this handsome, appealing public face. But that's all it is. The man out there, who you hug and admire, who tells you how gorgeous and smart you are, he's a criminal, Abby." She started to interrupt but Tony continued. "You know how I told you he left me in a hotel room in Hawaii when I was a kid?" She nodded, seeming to know that whatever he was about to say was not going to be good. "Let's just say he didn't leave me alone."

Abby looked at him, disturbed by what Tony was revealing. "Oh no…Tony!"

"He gave the hotel key to some guy he'd met at the bar, and told him to look after me. And when that man was finished with me, he handed the key over to another one…"

"No, Tony!"

"Until Senior came back, five days later."

"Tony, you're hurting my hand!"

"What? Oh, shit, I'm sorry…" Tony let go of Abby's hand with an apologetic look.

Abby threw her arms around him and hugged him, but not too hard. She started rocking him a bit. "It's okay," Tony assured her.

"No it's not! It's not okay! Don't you dare say that!"

With a slight smile, Tony told her, "I've dealt with it. I don't think about it anymore. I only told you because you keep pushing him at me, and I don't want anything to do with him. I've got Jethro now, and he's promised not to kill Senior, but he has my permission to toss him out or punch him, if he wants to."

"I'm so sorry. Sooo sorry!" After Abby stopped sniffling on Tony's shoulder she straightened her spine and said in a determined voice, "I'm going out there, and if that… that piece of bottom-of-the-pond scum is still here, I'm going to personally throw him out and…"

Tony laughed, even though it was sort of sad that this was Christmas Eve and he'd incited Abby to violence. "I'd like to see that. How about you help me to my feet, 'cause I gotta take a leak, and then we can both go out together."

"Deal."

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Abby waited until Tony was settled on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate in his hand and a large piece of raisin ginger cake (with white glacée icing and cherries on top) sitting on the coffee table within easy reach. She then moved in on Dinozzo Sr., pushed him repeatedly until he was out the front door and standing on the snowy front porch, and gave him a final, big shove that sent him tumbling down the steps.

Ducky watched the proceedings with an amused smile, as if it were dinner theater, and poured himself another hot toddy. Jimmy and Breena, eggnog in hand, weren't quite sure what was going on so they stayed out of the way. McGee stepped forward to act as Abby's backup, not needing to ask any questions.

DiNozzo Sr. protested all the way, of course, and Abby yelled at him, an invective-laced hate-fest for hurting her Tony, ending up with, "and don't you ever darken this door again!" before she slammed it shut.

Jethro nodded proudly at her and reached over to lock the front door. "I would've punched him if given the chance."

"He's gone and we won't talk about him anymore, right?" Abby asked. "He's dead to us."

"Yes, ma'am," Jethro replied.

Tony took a bite of cake and said through a grin, "Mmmm. 'ou should 'ry this. Good."

"We need some music," McGee said, and put some Christmas music on.

There was a loud banging on the front door, and Jethro said, "I'll take care of this."

Senior was spluttering and complaining, and demanding to know what Abby's problem was.

Jethro stood in the doorway, blocking the entrance, but when it became apparent that Senior wasn't shutting up and going away anytime soon, he interrupted the flow of words by grabbing him by the throat. "Now you listen to me, you pompous asshole! You are never to step foot on my property, or show up at the Navy Yard again. I'm armed and not afraid to protect what's mine – and that includes Tony. I know what you did to him, and you're damned lucky you're leaving here with your balls intact."

"He's my son! He's a DiNozzo and–"

"You're wrong, you little worm," Jethro retorted. "There's nobody here by that name."

"What're you talking about?"

By that time, Tony had risen from the couch – carefully – and had gone to stand by Jethro's side. Jethro glanced at him before turning back to Senior. "Starting immediately, this man is going to be known as Tony Gibbs. He's giving up the name you gave him, and he'll never speak to you or deal with you in any way, never again. So if you even come close, we'll deal with you and–"

Abby stepped up and put her arm around Tony and finished, "And I know how to get rid of a body and leave no trace!"

The moment Senior opened his mouth to object, Jethro let a punch fly, his fist slamming into his face. Senior staggered back and Jethro hit him again, sending the older man tumbling off the porch. He slammed the front door shut and locked it again. "Turn up the damned music, McGee, and give everyone a drink," he called out.

"You're saying you think I should change my name to Gibbs?" asked Tony.

"Well, yeah," Jethro said, as if that was a stupid question.

"Did you even think about asking me? Talking this over first?"

"I was gonna do it the right way," Jethro maintained.

"The right way?"

"Sure, down on one knee, hiding the ring in a cake…"

Tony turned to look at the big piece of cake he'd been eating. "You didn't…"

"Oh, no. Not that cake. I thought maybe on New Year's," Jethro said. "Chocolate cake with fudge icing."

Tony raised one eyebrow. "On New Year's… you're going to do what, exactly?"

Jethro inhaled deeply, then took both of Tony's hands, and said clearly, "Will you marry me, Tony? Be my Mr. Gibbs?"

"Anthony D. Gibbs…. Hmmm, has a nice ring to it," Tony said with a brilliant smile.

"Well?" Abby demanded, jumping up and down excitedly.

"Got a ring, Boss?" asked McGee, grinning.

Ducky intervened, saying, "I am sure we can locate a temporary ring, Jethro, so you will be able to ask for the dear boy's hand. In matrimonium ducere."

Gibbs shook his head and called out, "The hell with the ring. Palmer, where's that damned mistletoe?"

Tony laughed and hugged his lover, saying, "About damn time, and yes, I would love to marry you." Even before Jimmy ran over and held a sprig of mistletoe over their heads, Tony and Jethro were locked in an embrace, kissing, laughing and loving each other, with their true family gathered around.

※÷※÷※÷※÷※ the end ※÷※÷※÷※÷※