donutsweeper (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
donutsweeper) wrote2008-08-21 08:52 am
donutsweeper) wrote2008-08-21 08:52 am
The Widening Gyre
Title: The Widening Gyre
Pairing/Warning/Rating: NCIS fandom, no spoilers, rated G
Word Count: 1123
Beta:mad_jaks
Summary: Tony was still capable of surprising Gibbs- and teaching him a thing or two about life as well.
Author's Note: The title comes from the Yeats poem "The Second Coming." Now with commentary.
Gibbs knocked and then waited, not patiently, but he waited nonetheless. A full three minutes passed before he heard the familiar clop- drag- skip that signaled Tony was making his way to the door. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly. He wasn’t about to let the stresses of his day intrude here.
“W-w-who is it?”
Gibbs smiled. Everyday, the same question. “It’s me, Tony.”
“Boss?”
“You're supposed to check who it is before you unlock the door,” Gibbs said as he heard the deadbolt come off. “Did you look through the peephole?”
“No,” Tony announced as the threw the door open. “But I di'n’t need to. Y’re the only one that g-g-growls like that. Besides, it’s down-and-over and you always come when the clock says down-and-over.”
Before Jethro could process that statement Tony threw his good arm around him for a hug. “Hey, Tony.” Gibbs returned the hug with equal force. “You going to let me in?” he asked when Tony made no move to let go.
“Course I am, Boss. That’s why I opened the door,” Tony answered, his head still buried in Gibbs’ shoulder.
Right, always expect a literal response. He knew that, but it was too easy to forget sometimes. “I meant that we should get out off the porch and go inside so we don’t let all this cold air in.”
“Oh.” Tony looked up, a sheepish smile on his face. “G-g-good idea,” he said as he released Gibbs from the hug. As soon as they were inside however, Tony grabbed Gibbs’ wrist, pulling him after him as he lurched into the hall. “I have something to show you!”
“Let me get my coat off first.” Gibbs twisted his arm gently, slipping out of Tony’s grasp with practiced ease. “Tony, what’s down-and-over?”
“S’what the big clock in the den says when you get here. The alarm beeps at down-and-up to remind me to eat dinner. I’m usually done by down-and-down. Then I clean up like I’m supposed to and by the time I'm finished it’s down-and-over and that’s when you come! ‘Cept on the days you don’t come. But I like the days you do come better.” Numbers no longer meant anything to Tony; the various therapists had worked out a system of alarms and phone calls to keep him on a schedule when he was by himself. Gibbs hadn’t realized Tony had figured out his own way of telling time. He should have though, Tony was always one for figuring out his own way of doing things.
“So, down-and-up is...?”
Tony didn't answer right away. Instead he bit his lip and carefully set his feet, shifting his weight. Having seen Tony fall over more times than he cared to remember Gibbs knew better than to interrupt whatever Tony was doing. Even on Tony's best days his balance was precarious to say the least. Once happy with his positioning, his good leg directly under him, Tony lifted his left arm straight up over his head while his right arm dangled limply, pointing at the floor. “Like this! Well, sorta anyway.”
“No, you did it fine. So, this is when I come?” Gibbs simulated six forty-five with his hands.
“Yeah. You’re good at telling time, Boss.”
Tony seemed so sincere that Gibbs chuckled. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“Is that ‘cause you’re old and g-g-grey? Mr. Joe’s old too but he tells time different. He uses numbers. He says he never saw no one tell time my way before.”
Mr. Johansson ran the corner store at the end of the block. Now that Tony was doing better he’d started walking down there on his own. At first Gibbs had been worried about Tony bothering the storekeeper too much, especially since he rarely remembered to take money with him. Not even when he going there specifically to buy his daily candy bar. But, Mr. Johansson told Gibbs that he didn’t mind, explaining that Tony had helped him out a lot before and he’d considered this his chance to return the favor. Mr. Joe was a good man.
“I guess that makes you special.” Gibbs reached out to ruffle Tony’s hair.
“Guess it does.” Tony laughed, leaning briefly into Gibbs’ hand.
“So, what did you want to show me?”
Gibbs couldn't help but notice the slight hesitation as Tony’s brow furrowed as he tried to remember what he'd been so excited about just a short time earlier. Moments like that always hit Gibbs hard, like an ice cold hand clenching his gut. It reminded him how much had been lost, how much had changed, and how much he hated having to accept it. Even if, and perhaps most ironically, those moments slipped by without seeming to bother Tony at all.
“Oh yeah!” Tony laughed, and he grabbed Gibbs’ arm tightly. “You’re g-g-gonna love this!” he yelled as he clop- drag- skipped into the kitchen, dragging Gibbs behind him. “Maggie showed me how to make coffee so it’ll be strong enough for you. See? We put another scoop in here, a special scoop, just for you.” He held it up. “So now when I make coffee I use the red scoop and the white scoop and the brown scoop but when you’re here I use the blue scoop too. And I don’t have to try to mess with the water pitcher, I can just pour the whole thing in. The water’s the same, but there’s the extra blue scoop of coffee to make it nice and strong for you.”
Maggie was Tony’s occupational therapist. Gibbs had liked her, even before she’d figured out a way to ensure Tony’s coffee was to his taste. “So I assume that means I’m getting some coffee tonight?”
“Remember what you say about assuming, Boss.” Tony waggled a finger inches from Gibbs’ face.
“I remember. But you need to remember what happens when you get between a marine and his coffee.” For a second the familiar banter made Gibbs flash back on the days, the years, when he and Tony would be stuck on a case, and how no matter the time or place Tony would know how to ease the tension with a joke or comment and pull Gibbs back from the verge of cracking and get him able to focus on the matter at hand again.
“I don’t know about a marine, but I think you g-g-get g-g-grumpy when you don’t have coffee. Am I right, Boss?”
Gibbs looked up in time to see Tony’s smile broaden, his face lighting up. Whenever Gibbs found himself cursing the events that brought them here he tried to focus on that smile. The past couldn’t be changed, but Tony, this Tony, was happy and content in the present. “You sure are, Tony. You sure are.”
Pairing/Warning/Rating: NCIS fandom, no spoilers, rated G
Word Count: 1123
Beta:
mad_jaksSummary: Tony was still capable of surprising Gibbs- and teaching him a thing or two about life as well.
Author's Note: The title comes from the Yeats poem "The Second Coming." Now with commentary.
Gibbs knocked and then waited, not patiently, but he waited nonetheless. A full three minutes passed before he heard the familiar clop- drag- skip that signaled Tony was making his way to the door. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly. He wasn’t about to let the stresses of his day intrude here.
“W-w-who is it?”
Gibbs smiled. Everyday, the same question. “It’s me, Tony.”
“Boss?”
“You're supposed to check who it is before you unlock the door,” Gibbs said as he heard the deadbolt come off. “Did you look through the peephole?”
“No,” Tony announced as the threw the door open. “But I di'n’t need to. Y’re the only one that g-g-growls like that. Besides, it’s down-and-over and you always come when the clock says down-and-over.”
Before Jethro could process that statement Tony threw his good arm around him for a hug. “Hey, Tony.” Gibbs returned the hug with equal force. “You going to let me in?” he asked when Tony made no move to let go.
“Course I am, Boss. That’s why I opened the door,” Tony answered, his head still buried in Gibbs’ shoulder.
Right, always expect a literal response. He knew that, but it was too easy to forget sometimes. “I meant that we should get out off the porch and go inside so we don’t let all this cold air in.”
“Oh.” Tony looked up, a sheepish smile on his face. “G-g-good idea,” he said as he released Gibbs from the hug. As soon as they were inside however, Tony grabbed Gibbs’ wrist, pulling him after him as he lurched into the hall. “I have something to show you!”
“Let me get my coat off first.” Gibbs twisted his arm gently, slipping out of Tony’s grasp with practiced ease. “Tony, what’s down-and-over?”
“S’what the big clock in the den says when you get here. The alarm beeps at down-and-up to remind me to eat dinner. I’m usually done by down-and-down. Then I clean up like I’m supposed to and by the time I'm finished it’s down-and-over and that’s when you come! ‘Cept on the days you don’t come. But I like the days you do come better.” Numbers no longer meant anything to Tony; the various therapists had worked out a system of alarms and phone calls to keep him on a schedule when he was by himself. Gibbs hadn’t realized Tony had figured out his own way of telling time. He should have though, Tony was always one for figuring out his own way of doing things.
“So, down-and-up is...?”
Tony didn't answer right away. Instead he bit his lip and carefully set his feet, shifting his weight. Having seen Tony fall over more times than he cared to remember Gibbs knew better than to interrupt whatever Tony was doing. Even on Tony's best days his balance was precarious to say the least. Once happy with his positioning, his good leg directly under him, Tony lifted his left arm straight up over his head while his right arm dangled limply, pointing at the floor. “Like this! Well, sorta anyway.”
“No, you did it fine. So, this is when I come?” Gibbs simulated six forty-five with his hands.
“Yeah. You’re good at telling time, Boss.”
Tony seemed so sincere that Gibbs chuckled. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“Is that ‘cause you’re old and g-g-grey? Mr. Joe’s old too but he tells time different. He uses numbers. He says he never saw no one tell time my way before.”
Mr. Johansson ran the corner store at the end of the block. Now that Tony was doing better he’d started walking down there on his own. At first Gibbs had been worried about Tony bothering the storekeeper too much, especially since he rarely remembered to take money with him. Not even when he going there specifically to buy his daily candy bar. But, Mr. Johansson told Gibbs that he didn’t mind, explaining that Tony had helped him out a lot before and he’d considered this his chance to return the favor. Mr. Joe was a good man.
“I guess that makes you special.” Gibbs reached out to ruffle Tony’s hair.
“Guess it does.” Tony laughed, leaning briefly into Gibbs’ hand.
“So, what did you want to show me?”
Gibbs couldn't help but notice the slight hesitation as Tony’s brow furrowed as he tried to remember what he'd been so excited about just a short time earlier. Moments like that always hit Gibbs hard, like an ice cold hand clenching his gut. It reminded him how much had been lost, how much had changed, and how much he hated having to accept it. Even if, and perhaps most ironically, those moments slipped by without seeming to bother Tony at all.
“Oh yeah!” Tony laughed, and he grabbed Gibbs’ arm tightly. “You’re g-g-gonna love this!” he yelled as he clop- drag- skipped into the kitchen, dragging Gibbs behind him. “Maggie showed me how to make coffee so it’ll be strong enough for you. See? We put another scoop in here, a special scoop, just for you.” He held it up. “So now when I make coffee I use the red scoop and the white scoop and the brown scoop but when you’re here I use the blue scoop too. And I don’t have to try to mess with the water pitcher, I can just pour the whole thing in. The water’s the same, but there’s the extra blue scoop of coffee to make it nice and strong for you.”
Maggie was Tony’s occupational therapist. Gibbs had liked her, even before she’d figured out a way to ensure Tony’s coffee was to his taste. “So I assume that means I’m getting some coffee tonight?”
“Remember what you say about assuming, Boss.” Tony waggled a finger inches from Gibbs’ face.
“I remember. But you need to remember what happens when you get between a marine and his coffee.” For a second the familiar banter made Gibbs flash back on the days, the years, when he and Tony would be stuck on a case, and how no matter the time or place Tony would know how to ease the tension with a joke or comment and pull Gibbs back from the verge of cracking and get him able to focus on the matter at hand again.
“I don’t know about a marine, but I think you g-g-get g-g-grumpy when you don’t have coffee. Am I right, Boss?”
Gibbs looked up in time to see Tony’s smile broaden, his face lighting up. Whenever Gibbs found himself cursing the events that brought them here he tried to focus on that smile. The past couldn’t be changed, but Tony, this Tony, was happy and content in the present. “You sure are, Tony. You sure are.”
no subject
*dies* You. You. You! A-and Tony! And Gibbs! And. And. What. *faints*
... Wait, did I just die and then faint? I-it should be the other way around!
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
::flails::
I LOVE THIS!
So... is this part of a longer story? Is there more to it? What happened? I love how patient Gibbs is, and I like how you portray Tony, it's not cliched or anything. It's difficult to write something like that, I believe, and you've done beautifully.
Have I already told you I love this?
no subject
As of the moment, no, it's just a ficlet. But I do have a tendency to revisit old stories and I may take it and move it forward from here. Telling more of how Tony never breaks, he just pushes on.
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
Again, beautiful!
no subject
With one exception I haven't write Gibbs/Tony slash. I really don't write slash, but I allude to a lot, so if the reader wants to see it as slash relationship they can, if they want to see father/son sort of relationship they can. (or at least hopefully) Smoky Confrontations (http://donutsweeper.livejournal.com/88445.html) and The Chase (http://donutsweeper.livejournal.com/90296.html) are good examples of this
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
So sad and so good at the same time... What happened to Tony to land him in that state... At least Gibbs is there for him. And I absolutely LOVE how he figured out his own way to tell time and that he knows when Gibbs will show up. And that he calls him Boss. And that he learned how to make coffee to Gibbs' taste. And... well it was all good.
no subject
no subject
no subject
you've done a great job showing, revealing the situation rather than expositing
Oh, wow, thanks so much. Show's so much better than telling, but it's so hard to get the ration between the two just right!
no subject
A really fantastic piece of writing. Though I think my heart broke just a little bit for the Tony that was and the Tony that now is. Even if he is happy.
no subject
That's exactly what I was trying to acheive
no subject
You're very clever with the writing lol.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
no subject
no subject
You have handled this situation so well. I, like Tweeter, would love to see interaction with the others. I think Tim would have the biggest problems dealing with the changes in Tony. Abby, after a moment's mourning, would be delightful with Tony and definitely Palmer would be good with him.
no subject
(no subject)
no subject
This is so beautifully written. I really like the interaction between Gibbs and Tony. As several other people have said I would love to see more in this 'verse, but either way this is a great story that I enjoy rereading.
Also, is it okay if I recommend this in the
no subject
I've been debating writing more in the verse, but it's so tricky to get the voices just right that I haven't attempted it yet. Someday, maybe.
no subject
Beautifully done.
no subject
Thank you!
no subject
no subject
no subject
Sweet and tender as others have said; all the more well done because it has such truth about it (I've worked with some brain injured people and note than it's often -- way too often -- not captured well in fanfic, just as many other injuries or conditions are butchered.)
All in all -- just lovely. I hate the thought of it but this is just absolutely what I would expect of Gibbs and Tony both, if something were to have happened.
I can't wait to find some time to tromp thru more of your fic... thanks for sharing.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
I really hope you continue this :) Like someone else said, it'd be nice to see the others' reactions to this new Tony. And to see how Tony's friendship with Abby and Palmer was/wasn't affected by whatever happened.
no subject
Honestly, I've tried to continue it, both with a story where Abby visited and another where the entire team had a get together, but finding the right tone and hitting it exactly has eluded me so far. Maybe one of these days!
no subject
I just loved this and how you showed us that Tony is happy despite his injury and still remembers the inportant things (Gibbs' coffee). My heart bleeds for Gibbs because most often the people hurt the most are the ones left behind remembering how it used to be compared to how it is.