Drowning

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at

http://archiveofourown.org/works/138204.





Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: NCIS

Relationship: Anthony DiNozzo/Jethro Gibbs

Character: Anthony DiNozzo, Jethro Gibbs

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort

Stats: Published: 2010-12-08 Words: 1863





Drowning

by _thelostcity (thelostcity)



Notes







This wasn't originally a tag to Requiem, but that's what it turned

into. Also, this is a continuation of zortified's story Toy Box, posted

with permission. I couldn't leave well enough alone and added on,

for better or worse. My story can be read alone, but I highly

recommend reading Toy Box first, since my story will make more

sense that way.

As usual, a huge thank-you to onlyonechoice for the beta :)









Tony dreams he is drowning. There isn't enough air to pull into his aching

lungs and he can feel the hands pushing him down, down, down.



Tony wakes heaving and gasping for air. This time the hands are pulling him

up, pulling him forward to rest on something solid and warm, pulling him

through the deep grating coughs.



When Tony comes back to himself he first notices the warm hand on the

back of his neck, and then realizes that he's crying, sobbing, into that warm,

solid something that's propping him up. He can't think past that, however,

because he dreamt he was drowning, of hands holding him down.



Awareness spikes again sometime later and Tony recognizes the feel of

Gibbs' hands rubbing soothing circles on his back, even though he's never

felt them anywhere but the back of his head. He's stopped crying now, and

his breathing is slowing back down to the gasps of a plague survivor with

bronchitis.



"We had to give you a mild sedative. You were crying too hard to breathe

properly," Gibbs says softly into Tony's ear.

He can't concentrate on anything but breathing right now, so he turns his

face slightly into Gibbs' neck in lieu of answering. It feels nice to be held,

and as much as he shouldn't be doing this he doesn't actually have the

energy to move away.



"What were you dreaming?"



Because he's running on reflex alone right now, and responding to Gibbs is a

reflex, Tony tells him. "Drowning."



"No one drowned, Tony. You got us in time."



But that's not true, it's not, because someone did drown, so Tony whimpers

into Gibbs' neck and the only reason he doesn't start crying again is because

of the sedative. He wants to, oh he wants to, but he can't; he doesn't have

the energy to do anything but lean against Gibbs.



Gibbs doesn't quite know how to parse the whimper, but Maria chooses that

moment to come in with a cup of broth and more medication. When she

found out that Tony was sick, she insisted on cooking and coming by every

other day instead of once a week to help Gibbs clean up. She seems thrilled

that he's there, and every time she sees him touching Tony she smiles this

secret little smile to herself. He can't help but think she approves. Of what

he's not entirely sure.



Taking the cup of broth, Gibbs holds the straw to Tony's lips, "Come on,

Tony, you need to have some of this." He feels Tony shift on his shoulder

trying to move away, but Gibbs follows him with the straw. "You need to eat

something Tony. Maria made it; it'll make you feel better."



While Gibbs coaxes Tony to eat, he can hear Maria puttering around the

room straightening trinkets and tidying up dirty clothes. After Tony

manages half the cup of broth, Gibbs helps him lie down again and brushes

hair off his sweaty forehead. When he stands up he finds that Maria's been

watching him again, still with that infuriating, enigmatic smile.



He follows her back out into the kitchen where she presses a beautiful

wooden box into his hands. Where it came from he has no idea, but before

he can open it she starts talking.



"He'll never tell you himself. Goodness knows I've been telling him for years

to just ask already, but he never does!"



Gibbs isn't quite following her train of thought, but she's got that approving

smile on her face again as she starts going on about spaghetti dinners that

have gone to waste and if he'd just ask already she would happily cook for

them. That's when it clicks and all he can do is blink because he had no idea.

Not one clue.



Maria finishes up whatever it was she was doing and kisses Gibbs on the

cheek as she leaves, still smiling that approving smile.



After Maria leaves, Gibbs mulls over what she told him for a while. He really

didn't know. He had wondered occasionally, idly, but right when he thought

something might be there he was always wrong. Tony's smiles would be

fake, and he'd be withdrawn, not enough for anyone but Gibbs to notice, but

withdrawn all the same. Those weren't the actions of someone who was

interested.



Taking a deep breath, Gibbs studies the box. The ornate box looks

practically brand new; the finish is perfect except for the bottom and its four

corners, where it has scuff marks from being slid on something. The design

is elegant but not complicated; the beauty evidenced in neat lines and

delicate carvings. It doesn't lock, but the catch moves like this box isn't

opened all that often.



When he opens it he's surprised to see toys. A chipped red car and a plastic

kazoo. A piece of dirty string, looped at one end and frayed at the other. He

spends several minutes just looking at the mementos of Tony’s youth before

noticing that the toys are resting on top of something else.



He sees the picture before he opens the papers; two young boys grinning

madly, so proud of the fish they'd caught. Once he stops looking at the

picture, the boy on the left is so clearly Tony, he looks at the sheaf of papers.



He finds several letters written in the untidy scrawl of a young boy, and an

obituary. He reads the latter first; it's for a 13-year-old boy who drowned in a

tragic lake accident one summer while vacationing with his family. Gibbs

wonders if it's the other boy in the picture.



The letters are addressed to Tony and signed by Ryan, presumably the same

Ryan whose obituary he just read. They're not overt, and they're not explicit,

but it's clear that these are love letters. Now he knows that Ryan is the

other boy in the photo, and the picture forming in Gibbs' mind about what

exactly happened to Ryan isn't pretty.



Before he can continue with that train of thought, he hears Tony start

moving in the other room. Between the fever and the sedative Gibbs knows

that Tony's not going to be able to do much of anything on his own, so he

goes to help. Gibbs is not, however, expecting to find Tony on the floor, half

under the bed. With a fever this high Tony shouldn’t be out of bed, much less

under it!



"DiNozzo? What are you doing?" Sometimes Tony gets delirious when he's

sick, so Gibbs thinks that maybe this is something related. Tony pulls

enough ridiculous stunts when he’s fully functioning, but when he’s sick it

gets even worse. Gibbs remembers finding Tony sitting fully-clothed in the

bathtub, filling it with ice cubes and lukewarm water, when he had a nasty

case of bronchitis last year. He never did figure out how Tony got the ice

cubes without him noticing.



"I can't find it, Gibbs! It's always right here. I can't find it." Tony's very upset

by whatever he can't seem to find, judging by his desperate tone and flailing

arms, but Gibbs is more concerned with the possibility of dust bunnies

setting off another coughing fit. He leans down to both peek under the bed

(hmm, no dust bunnies, odd) and coax Tony back into bed.



"There's nothing under there, Tony. You need to be back in bed. Come on."

Surprisingly, Tony tries to push him away, twisting and squirming. "I know!"

he coughs, suddenly jerking himself out of Gibbs' arms, "That's the

problem!"



Tony's very agitated now and Gibbs needs to calm him down before

something serious happens. "Well, what's usually there? I'll help you find it."

He wraps his arms around Tony’s middle before he can crawl under the bed

again, keeping him vertical on unsteady legs.



"'S my box. My wooden box," he whispers distractedly, twisting and looking

all around the room for it while Gibbs holds him upright.



Crap, Gibbs thinks. That box is currently sitting, open, on Tony's dining room

table. "I know where it is, Tony. Why don't you get back in bed and I'll bring

it in."



Tony sighs in relief, which sets off another coughing jag. Gibbs uses that to

his advantage, pushing Tony back into bed and under the covers. When

Tony's calm again, Gibbs props him up on the pillows and goes to retrieve

the box with a quick “Be right back.” As he walks back into the room, Tony

blinks at him for a few moments, having forgotten what he wanted. When

Tony sees the box in Gibbs' hands, though, he immediately reaches for it.

After taking it he doesn't open it, instead he just holds it and strokes the

intricate inlay.



It takes a few minutes, but when Tony connects the fact that Gibbs delivered

the box and it hadn't been under his bed, Gibbs sees Tony pale further than

his current pallor and panic spike in his eyes. Having read the letters and

obituary, and remembering what Tony's nightmare was about, it's not too

difficult to figure out why.



"Why do you have my box?" The sedative is keeping him from getting too

worked up, but Gibbs knows that he needs to keep Tony as relaxed as

possible.



"Tony,"



"Why do you have my box, Gibbs!" Tony's on the verge of tears again, and

Gibbs' heart starts breaking a little for him.



"Relax, Tony." Gibbs reaches out to comfort him, but Tony shies away, curling

up on his side facing away from Gibbs. Gibbs knows he can't stay like that

for long, that position is terrible for breathing. "Maria gave it to me."



Tony whimpers again, but it turns into a mild cough at the end. He's got to

sit back up, but sitting up means facing Gibbs and he’s aware that's not

something Tony wants to do. He doesn't give Tony a choice, though, hauling

him up and then holding him there when he can't stay up on his own.



A few tears leak out and Gibbs wipes them away before shifting to sit behind

Tony, pulling Tony into his lap.



"You weren't supposed to know. She wasn't supposed to tell you."



Gibbs remains silent, one hand running through Tony's hair while the other

arm wraps around Tony's waist.



"They were so angry. We, just, we were in love, and 13, and his father...my

father beat the ever-loving shit out of me."



Gibbs sighs and hugs Tony closer. He hates that this happened to Tony, and

wants to beat the tar out of the men, the fathers, who thought their reaction

was appropriate.



"Please don't fire me, Gibbs," Tony whispers.



He can't control his reaction, "Jesus Christ, DiNozzo! I'm not gonna fire you!"

He feels Tony try to shrink away from him, but just holds him tighter. "Easy,

Tony, relax. Sometimes I like men, too." He didn't want to admit that, but it

was a small price to pay to feel Tony finally settle against him.



"Really?"



"Really. So now you've got dirt on me. You don't tell, I won't tell."



"Yeah, okay." Tony starts to drift off, "I can do that."







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