What's The Point? - NCIS Fan-fiction

Chapter 13

What’s The Point?

Chapter 13

Tony made his way slowly back to his room, shaking slightly. He really hoped Gibbs hadn’t heard him puking, otherwise he would be dead. He climbed back into bed, not bothering to press start on the movie, and curled up in a tight ball around a pillow, and decided to try and get some sleep.

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When Gibbs came to tell Tony that dinner was ready, his gut was churning. He knocked softly on the door, before entering. While Tony was still nervous about being on his own, he was trying to stay by himself for longer, even if it was just for an hour-long movie. Gibbs entered, and saw that Tony had curled himself around a pillow, with a movie home screen on the TV. He was immediately concerned, because he knew that Tony usually slept stretched out to keep his long limbs comfortable. He turned the TV off, and kneeled down by the bed and gently shook Tony’s shoulder to awake him.

“Tony,” he called softly. “Time to wake up, kiddo.” He heard a soft moan come from the other man, as he tried to curl further into himself. “Tony, time to wake up.” He tried again, louder.

“’m up.” Tony mumbled. Gibbs chuckled at the younger man. He pulled him into a sitting position slowly, letting Tony lean against him.

“No, you need to be up up.” He said softly. Tony cracked one eye open and looked up at his new father.

“Why?” he asked, snuggling closer to Gibbs. Tony would deny it if Gibbs said anything, but Tony was a hard-core snuggler. Gibbs gently rubbed a calloused hand up and down Tony’s arm.

“You need to eat dinner. You didn’t eat much at lunch and you need something in your system.” Gibbs’ gut started churning even more when Tony groaned – almost painfully – and buried his head in the older man’s shoulder. “Hey, you okay?” Gibbs asked comfortingly.

“Don’t make me eat.” Tony whispered into his shoulder. “Please.” He choked out. Gibbs could tell he was on the verge of tears.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Gibbs rubbed gentle circles on the other man’s back. Tony just shook his head and Gibbs could feel the tears starting to soak through his shirt. Tony wanted to tell Gibbs that he had been throwing up his food for the past 6months or so, but the little voice in his head wouldn’t let him. A chocked sob escaped his throat.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Gibbs continued to comfort. After a few minutes, Tony started to calm down. His tears slowed, but he didn’t move away from the comfort of his father.

“’m sorry.” Tony mumbled. Gibbs kissed his head gently.

“Nothing to be sorry for, okay?” Tony hesitated slightly, before nodding slowly against Gibbs’ shoulder. “Now,” Gibbs continued softly. “What’s wrong?” Tony sniffed miserably.

“I…I can’t tell you.” He whispered. Gibbs frowned.

“Why’s that, Tony?” he asked.

“I…I just can’t.”

“Tony…”

“I told I can’t okay! Get out!” Tony yelled, pushing away from his dad. Gibbs was momentarily shocked by Tony’s sudden outburst.

“Tony, son, what’s going on inside your head?” he asked, before being pushed again.

“I said get out!” Tony shouted, pushing him towards the door again. The older man raised his hands in an ‘I surrender’ fashion.

“Okay, okay. I’m going. I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready to talk.” He told the angry man, walking calmly out the room, before hearing a door slam behind him. He ran a hand through his greying hair, making his way to the living, wondering how he help his boy.

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Tony slammed the door behind his father’s retreating body, before sliding down the door, and pulling his knees to his chest.

“What have I done?” he whispered to himself. He rested his chin on his knees and stayed like this for a long time.

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Gibbs was at loss for what to do to help Tony. He had no idea what his son was upset about and he couldn’t think of why he wouldn’t at least attempt to eat something. He took his cell out of his pocket and decided to call Ducky.

“Hello, Doctor Mallard speaking?” Ducky’s mellow Scottish voice answered.

“Hey, Duck.”

“Ahh, hello Jethro. How are you and young Anthony?” Ducky asked. Ducky and Abby were the only people who knew that Tony was living with him, and Ducky was the only other person that knew about Tony’s self-harm, but that had only because Gibbs was concerned about all the blood he was seeing.

“I’m good, Ducky, but I’m worried about Tony.”

“Why is that, Jethro?” Ducky asked. Gibbs explained how Tony wouldn’t eat.

“And when I asked him what was wrong, he got upset and made me leave his room. Yelled at me and pushed me out the door. I’m really worried about him, Duck.” Gibbs expressed his concerns. Ducky took a moment to think this over.

“Have you noticed or heard him throwing up?” he asked after a moment.

“No, why?” Gibbs heard Ducky sigh.

“Jethro, everything you have described, it sounds like Anthony is devolving either Anorexia Nervosa or Bulimia Nervosa.”

“But, Duck, Tony usually eats everything in sight!” Gibbs was confused.

“Yes, but, he could have of been eating in front of you, so you would not worry, and then go home and regurgitate it.” Ducky explained.

“But that doesn’t explain why he’s not eating now.”

“Maybe, Jethro, he thinks it’s easier to not eat, instead of eating just to throw it back up.” Ducky heard Gibbs sigh softly.

“How do I help, if what you are saying is true?” he asked.

“If you hear vomiting, or see it, ask him what is wrong, and he will hopefully tell you.” Ducky told him. “Just be a father to the boy Jethro.”

“Okay, thanks, Duck.” Gibbs said before hanging up. He made his way to the couch, and sat down heavily. Hopefully, Tony will tell him if something is wrong.

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After an hour sitting against the door, Tony got up to go to the bathroom. After he had relieved himself, he stood at the top the stairs, debating to go downstairs or not. He made up his mind, and slowly made his way down. He found Gibbs reading a newspaper on the sofa. Tony stood nervously in the threshold of the door, preferring for Gibbs to see him, than to announce himself. When Gibbs felt someone staring at him, he looked up, smiling when he saw the tall brunette, who offered a weak smile in return. Gibbs patted the cushion next to him, indicating for Tony to sit down. Tony slowly made his way beside the silver-haired man. When he had sat, Gibbs wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He had expected for Tony to shrug his arm off, but the young Italian melted into his embrace, turning his head into his shoulder, mumbling that he was sorry over and over again. Gibbs gently rubbed Tony’s arm.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, okay?” he said when Tony had stopped mumbling. Tony shrugged, not quite believing what he was being told. “Now, what’s wrong?” he felt stiffen slightly under his arm.

“I can’t tell you.” Tony whispered. “Not yet.” Gibbs nodded, understanding what he was being told.

“Okay, whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here for you.” Gibbs was surprised when Tony pulled him into a hug that could beat Abby’s.

“No-one has ever said that to me before.” Tony choked out.

“Well,” Gibbs said. “I’m glad to be the first.”