Disclaimer: All rights reserved and belong to their respective owners. Beta-ed by Barbara so any and all remaining mistakes found are mine, completely. Typos happen. This is also the only place the Disclaimer will be seen.

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Five years old and already Anthony DiNozzo realized that he wasn't like most other little boys. Well, he knew that his family had more things than others did and that his Daddy was really important, but he'd never realized just how far they, The DiNozzos, were from the families around them. It was quite disconcerting for his young mind to process the differences, but even more so to have the fact that he wasn't normal hammered in by one too many stern talkings emphasized by the rancid smell of twelve-year-old malt wafting off his father's breath.

It was another two years before he understood what secrets meant. Black and blue, and hiding under thick sweaters and long sleeves when his Mother let him out of those horrid Sailor suits. He hated them, the oversized trappings, but he didn't have a choice in the matter. But if he could, Anthony decided that he'd rather get rid of the bruises circling his upper harms and shoulders where his father's thick fingers wrapped and pressed into his soft flesh, instead.

The abuse lasted until two months before his twelfth birthday. He'd honestly thought things were getting better, that his father was finally starting to accept him; but it wasn't the case. No sooner had he come down for breakfast and a tart 'Happy Birthday' from the staff, and one warmer greeting and hug from Nanny Amoretti, than his Father met him by the side door with four suitcases and a sneer. Fishburne Military Academy was his hell for six years. And it was the place where Tony learned, again, what secrets were for.

Heated words and a loss of more than just family money, and he was off to college where life began. The classes were long, the workload hard, and most of the Professors complete bores, but Anthony loved every second of it. He was free here. It was also the first place he understood what family meant. The Brotherhood meant everything to him; they were family. And it helped sweeten the deal that the girls were nice. After college came the Police Academy, a string of rough and tumble moves between states and precincts, to finally end up at NCIS - Naval Criminal Investigative Service. He not only ended up there, but was hand-picked by NCIS' lead investigator.

Oh yes. Life was good.

Until it went to hell.

Gibbs had left them; him. Left him to take the lead. Left him to try and pick up the pieces. He tried; he really did. Apparently not hard enough because Ziva still didn't trust him. She called Gibbs for help, and left him in the lurch. That stung, but he could understand it; supported it even.

And now Gibbs was back, and Tony was hip deep in shit with no waders; and Madame Director was just making it worse.

'Damn, speak of the Devil,' he sighed, dropping the Director's gaze. He knew that look, so he had to make his excuses and head up to her office for yet another dressing down for not getting her what she needed, and a kick in the ass to do his damn job.
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"Tony," Jeanne's soft voice wafted from the kitchen alcove. "You're being awful quiet out there." There was a muffled chuckle; she found his subdued attitude amusing. "Tony?"

Anthony sat nestled against the gauche floral pattern of his girlfriend's couch, elbows on his knees and hands cradling his head. The Director had given him an ultimatum - an impossible task. And he was supposed to follow orders, right? But how could he? How could he do this?

"Tony?"

DiNozzo's head snapped up at the worried tone and blinked at the woman silhouetted in the doorway. "Jeanne. . .?"

"I said, you are being awful quiet out here. Is something wrong?"

"You've no idea," he answered, sotto voce. He covered it by pretending to clear his throat, and then sat up straighter. "Nothing a little home cooking and lip service couldn't fix."

A smile played across her lips as she moved across the room with a sway in her step. "Well, I'm not much of a cook, but the latter I could provide easily." Slender arms reached out to wind around obviously tense shoulders, but jerked away when Tony flinched at her touch. "What is the matter with you Tony?! Why are you flinching away from me?"

'Shit!' He tried to salvage the situation by reaching out to Jeanne, but she'd already retreated several steps away. "It's nothing Jeanne, honey. I'm just not up t. . ."

"Don't you dare lie to me Anthony DiNardo. I want answers and I want them NOW." She crossed her arms firmly across her chest, frowning expressively. "For the last month you've been pulling away from me. We talk and laugh, and there is the occasional cuddle session after a movie marathon, but we haven't touched in a long time. So what is it? I thought you loved me!"

The response, the reassurance that he did, indeed, love her, died on his lips because the truth left him breathless. He'd told her he loved her and had meant it when he'd said it. . .But he didn't. Not anymore. Not. Anymore.

And Jeanne knew.
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"Abby . . . please be home," he whispered to the dark wood, and pressed redial on his cell. God his head hurt, but he'd just screw his eyes shut and bite down on his lip if he had to knock to get her attention. He was saved from that fate when a groggy voice picked up on the other line. Tony sent a silent thank you up to the heavens.

"Abs?"

There was a rustling sound - Abby sat up in her coffin, covers spilling over the curved side - then a slightly more alert voice. "Tony? Tony, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry for calling so late, but, Abs, I really need some help here and you're it Girlfriend. You're the only person I knew I could come to." His voice slurred a little around the edges, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't keep the pain from slipping through as well.

Abby was out of her coffin and hastily throwing on anything she could find in the way of clothes, racing from her room with the cell held to her ear like it was the a lifeline. "Oh my GOD, Tony, what's wrong?! Where are you?! How badly are you hurt? Should I call Ducky." She drew in a sharp breath, stopping dead in her hallway. "ANTHONY DINOZZO, you're not DYING! I refuse listen to you DIE on the phone! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"Whoa, WHOA! Ab's calm down." 'Please calm down, take a breath. . .don't scream in my ear because I think my head just might explode.'

"I'm sitting outside your door. Er, well, I will be as soon as my legs give out; but before that I'm kinda leaning against your door." He tried to let some semblance of humor seep into his words, but he was too tired, too hurt. "Could I... . .?"

The door flew backwards, sending him stumbling forward and almost on his face in his friend's entryway. How the hell Abby had managed to catch him and guide him to the couch was beyond him.

"He's bleeding! Abby, get your first aid kit; hurry!" Gentle hands worked over the obviously battered body, looking for other injuries.

'Oh . . . shit'

"McGee?" 'This can't be happening. He's not supposed to be here. God I shouldn't have come.'

"Tony, stop. Just calm down. It's okay." Tim's voice was worried and the hands, though still gentle, held the Agent down. "Abby'll be back in a minute and we'll get you cleaned up."

DiNozzo struggled uselessly against McGee's grip, trying to push himself off the couch. He had to leave. "No, see, that's alright. I'll just go on home. Tell Abby I'll talk to her tomorrow." He was rambling and starting to panic. "I'll call her and everything'll be okay. Okay? You can let go now Probie."

"Ah, no. I don't think so."

"You're not going anywhere Tony! Not until we clean you up." Abby was back with the large black box - the first aid kit - that she kept under the sink in her bathroom. "You've got some 'splaining to do DiNozzo."

Tony sagged beneath Timothy's hands. He knew he was defeated. He didn't have the energy to get away and he was so tired. And Abby was his last salvation. He'd hit rock bottom and she was the only thing - person - who could keep him above water. But he'd lied to her, to everyone! He'd been dancing around her questions for months, spinning stories and spouting lies, keeping her at arm's length; would she even . . .'Oh God, please. Please don't abandon me Abs.'

"I. . .I've been so stupid. So fucking STUPID. And I don't think I can do it anymore." He felt so numb; so damn numb, and it scared him. He started to shake with unshed tears, nearly laughing at the absurdity of it all. The sting of antiseptic spray and pressure of a cloth made him wince.

Abby worried at her bottom lip, turning worried eyes on McGee. Panic was slowly building behind her expressive irises. She didn't know if she could trust her voice but knew she had to get through to her hurt friend. He wasn't making any sense. Bleeding and shaking on her couch, and he wasn't making any sense! God she'd never been more terrified in her life.

She surged forward and engulfed her best friend in a tight hug, nearly curling herself into his lap. Timothy immediately let go of the older man and resumed cleaning where Abby left off, letting the Goth try to heal Tony the best way she knew how. He could take care of the rest, for now, and let her try.

"Shh, Tony; you're not making any sense, sweetie. Come on, calm down. Start from the beginning, okay?" She curled a hand gently against the back of the dark head and whispered soothingly into his ear. "I'm, we're, here for you. Tell me what's wrong. Please?"

Anthony clung to her, arms wrapping around the slender waist and holding on for dear life. "I can't do it any more, Abby. I just can't. Everything's just gotten so out of hand. The Director… I can't do it anymore. I don't love her and that bitch… God, why does she want me to do that?!" Tony buried his head deep against the covered shoulder. "I lied to you, to everyone. I've been lying about everything. Had to keep it all secret. But Abby, I can't anymore, because I'm dying inside. And I'm scared!"

Abby sent a pleading look over the bent head, tilting her own towards the bedroom. The cell phones were in there. McGee caught on quickly and nodded once. He finished up the cursory cleanup job on the parts of Tony's face he could still get and managed to clean up the mess on the back of his head. He took the soiled cloth and headed down the hall. He had a call… two calls to make.

Slowly she pulled back from him, but didn't let him go, and he didn't seem inclined to release her any time soon. She didn't mind at all. She just wanted him to feel comfortable, safe, loved; she wanted him to be okay. Carefully she combed her fingers through his hair, mindful of the sore spot that still bled sluggishly.

"What's she trying to make you do?" she queried softly, knowing that she had to go slow and be gentle or he'd clam up, or start rambling again.

Tony made a pitiful sound against her shoulder. God he felt so stupid, useless, and used. He felt so weak and broken. But Abby was safe. Abby was comfort and acceptance. He desperately needed that right now, so he was willing to share anything with her; as long as she wouldn't pull away and leave him. And that was a real possibility once he told her… once he told her everything. The thought of her turning her back on him had tears prickling at the edges of his eyes.

"I'm really good at undercover ops, you know? Been doing them since my vice back in Peoria." Tony licked his lips and willed the weakness from his voice. "That's what I do for the Director now; I work undercover. Been doing it for awhile now and it was alright. Everything was fine. But… but things changed, ya know?"

"She's obsessed, Madame Director, with this real baddie; arms dealer with a penchant for his profession. Real hinky, Abs. And he's got this daughter, you see. Jeanne Benoit. Doctor Jeanne Benoit; works over at Monroe University Hospital. She's a real special lady and, for awhile, I thought I loved her." That hurt to say but he had to tell her, Abby, everything before his secrets tore him to pieces. "I really, really loved her at one point. But I don't anymore, ya know? You know what they say, 'Easy in, Easy out'."

"Jenny introduced me to her, but at the time I didn't know the reason. I found out and… and it hurt, okay? I mean, I fell for Jeanne. But it's all lies and deceit. I don't love her anymore. She's just… it's complicated, but I can't do it. And J… Director Shepard wants me to MARRY her! Oh God, Abs, I can't!"

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A soft knock signaled that at least one of the people that he'd called had arrived. When Tim opened the door, he was relieved to see that both his boss and Ducky were waiting anxiously beyond the threshold. He immediately moved aside and admitted them.

"Abby's got him laying down in the guest room, Boss; Ducky. He's in bad shape, but I think it's more emotional than anything." Tim worried at his bottom lip, closing the door behind them. "I've never seen Tony lose it like that before!"

"Oh dear. Jethro, I'll go look in on young Anthony." The doctor started down the hallway, but paused when he hear twin footfalls behind him. "Please; give me some time with him, alone with Abby. Right now I wish to keep his stress level low and, no offense my friend," he pinned the fellow gray-haired man with a sad smile, "but seeing you might drive him over the edge, as they say."

Gibbs blew an impatient breath through his teeth and ran a hand over his hair. "Fine Duck, but I want to see him."

Donald nodded and moved further down the hallway. "In due time, Jethro. In due time." He disappeared around the corner, and his quiet tone asked for admittance into the room that housed the shattered agent, and the pale forensics tech wafted in his wake.

Boss and subordinate stood in silence for what seemed to be an eternity before Gibbs spun towards Timothy and pinned him with a piercing gaze. Without breaking eye contact, Jethro tipped his head towards the couch, and then waited for McGee to follow orders before following behind the computer whiz. Once they were seated, he immediately demanded answers.

"I… I don't know much more than what I overheard after hanging up with you and then Ducky; but from what I've pieced together, Tony's been running ops for the Director for a long time and this latest one went sour." Tim laced his hands together and leaned forward to place his elbows on the tops of his knees. "Apparently she's had him get, ah, personal with a woman named Jeanne; a doctor that works at Monroe. It got pretty deep there for awhile, but something made him pull back away from this lady. He wanted out but couldn't leave, you know?"

McGee shook his head and plowed on, knowing that it was only a matter of time before Gibbs' temper would flare, just as his own had at discovering what broke the strong, confident man Tony had been. "Director Shepard wanted him to marry her, Boss. I can only guess at what happened tonight, because he won't tell us anything about his injuries, but I think he was with Jeanne… and she found out he didn't love her anymore, or he tried to break it off. Things went from bad to worse, and he somehow got hurt."

Amazingly the senior investigator managed to bite back the litany of expletives that ran rampant inside his head, however he couldn't push the angry color from his face. He was pissed; royally. Of all the dumbest, most self-centered, negligent, and reckless things… Director Shepard had a lot to answer for. But he couldn't dwell on that right now; he had a man down.

"Jethro." The quiet accent cut through the mounting tension, and drew both men's attention towards the hall.

Gibbs sprang from the seat and met the elderly doctor in the hallway. "How is he Duck?"

"Exhausted, dehydrated, and generally in poor mental health, but not to worry too much. Nothing a good sleep and plenty of fluids once he's awake won't fix." He paused to clean his glasses, perching them back on his nose. "I would also suggest he take some vacation time."

"Ya think?" The two men shared a solemn smile.

"I'll leave him to Abby's care and will advise that you, Jethro, not push. Let the boy come around of his own accord - which I foresee won't be long now - and please, I implore you, do not come down too hard on him for his digressions." The ME moved around the Agents towards the door. "I must get back to Mother. She was watching the evening show when I left, and I can only hope she took her usual medicine and is currently asleep. But one must never assume. Good evening gentlemen."

The ex-Marine waited until Mallard closed the door before making his way down the hall towards the spare bedroom, McGee hot on his heels and worried as hell. Abby met them at the door, blocking the Gunny's entry.

"Gibbs."

"Abby." Neither moved nor broke eye contact. A small smile tugged at Gibbs' lips at how ferociously his girl protected her own, even from him. He leaned forward. "Good girl."

Unpainted lips parted into a brilliant smile. "Of course, Gibbs; I learned from the best!" She stepped aside and let him inside. Tony was buried under Abby's familiar skeleton pattern comforter; only the top of his head seemed to be visible. "Be gentle Gibbs; he's fragile."

"He's not made of porcelain, Abby."

"Fragile, Gibbs. Fragile."

"Out. Now."

The tech grabbed Tim's arm and retreated into the living room with full confidence that her silver-haired fox would treat her boy with the kind of care she knew he was capable of. Jethro, for his part, waited patiently, counting silently until he could no longer hear his people's footfalls before moving towards the bed.

"DiNozzo, you with me?" The covers flinched but didn't answer. He waited patiently for two… long… breaths. "I'm not going to go away."
"Well, I was hoping, Boss."

"I'm waiting DiNozzo." For a moment the lump on the mattress drew in on itself. But Tony never ran away from anything while he was around, and he wasn't going to start now.

The lump elongated to reveal the battered form of his Senior Field Agent, looking like he needed a solid eight after a week leave. He saw the gash on the back of the head near the neckline first, and barely kept his growl inaudible. The two bruises forming on ex-cop's left cheek, one just beneath the right temple, a severe looking scratch along the hairline just to the left of the nasal dent, which appeared to have bleed copiously if the stains along the man's collar were any indication, and enough scrapes to make the Agent look like a crash victim.

"Ducky said it looked like I'd been to the wars."

A salt and pepper eyebrow lifted. "I'd say someone took to throwing everything they had at your head but their fists. I'm guessing books, maybe a flowerpot?"

"Ah, your powers of observation astound me sometimes, Gibbs." Tony shifted onto his back and stared up at the ceiling; anything to keep from looking at his Boss. "I… have a lot of explaining to do."

"Yeah, probably more than you're willing to share, but you're going to. Aren't you, Tony?"

"Yes, Boss."

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"Agent Gibbs," Jen's voice was sharp and dripping with distaste and veiled humor, "how nice of you to knock."

"Didn't knock."

"Of course not." The Director pushed back into her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"You compromised one of my Agents to find fuel for your ass-backwards harassment of a man you've no right investigating, and without a damn chit to show for it. Especially after the CIA - you remember them, don't you? - pulled your plug. That's not only sloppy Director, but enough to get you kicked."

Shepard's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Is that a threat, Jethro?"

Gibbs' smile was not a pleasant one. "I don't threaten Director; I deliver."

"There's nothing you or Special Agent DiNozzo can do or say against me that will stick. I am the NCIS Director; your boss. All communications between Tony and I are virtually non-existent, as is the documentation regarding most of the special operations regarding La Grenouille and his dependants." Jenny removed herself from her chair, smiling ferally as she placed both hands palm down against her desk. She was the one in power here and she knew how to use it well. But even she knew that her tactics wouldn't intimidate Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

"That's where you're wrong, Jen." It was the first time he used her name since they began this conversation. It wasn't a slip. "I train my people better than that." His smile broadened when a flicker of fear glanced across her eyes. "And DiNozzo is the best."

"He has nothing that can be used against me."

"Jeanne Benoit. And I don't think she'll be any more forgiving than our people when she finds out that she was part of an illegal operation to entrap her father."

The sharp bark of cruel laughter almost wiped the smile from the Gunny's face. Jethro narrowed his eyes fractionally as he waited for her reasoning; people like Jennifer Shepard didn't wait long to gloat. A mental count of ten and the Director's laughter died down.

"Well, let me know what Ducky finds out from Miss Benoit won't you?" The red head shook slowly. "Ah, but Miss Benoit isn't associated with the Navy. She was a civilian Doctor dating a civilian Professor."

"Now, I believe it best for you to head back down to your little team and prepare yourself for a significant change." A slender arm rose, hand extended towards the door in a grand sweeping gesture. "You'll find that I've decided that in the best interest of NCIS your Special Agents are better suited in other areas."

'Shit.'

"Not. Going. To. Happen."

"We'll see, Jethro. You're dismissed."