Full Circle: Chapter Seven

[emeraldsnakes]

Disclaimer: I own nada.

Title: Alone


 

Saturday April 16, 2005; The Middle of the Night

 

Tony pulled the blanket tighter around him, shifted uncomfortably and breathed deeply the overpowering scent of wood and sawdust. It was mentally comforting, sleeping in Gibbs’ boat because the boat was more Gibbs than anything else in his house.

 

He wished Gibbs were here to comfort him, but he'd cried enough in front of him and he didn't want to show any more weakness. He could get through his nightmares, he didn't need anyone to be there to help. Right?

 

Two days ago he would have said yes, but after one night with Gibbs his entire system was fucked up. He turned for Gibbs’ touch, not necessarily sexually because he didn't think he could get it up, but just a comforting hand on his shoulder would be a major help when trying to center himself.

 

Because of Gibbs every single one of his defenses had broken and left him floundering in a sea of uncontrollable emotions. There was no bottom to push from and no surface to break free. He was trapped, drowning and completely alone.

 

Now his father had begun to plague him again, torture him in his dreams and attack his vulnerable soul. Even after all these years he still couldn't get away from the bastard, though he had tried many times.

 

He flailed madly as he rolled back but found no support and barely managed to keep from falling. What little progress held Made on trying to sleep was gone. His eyes were wide and his heart pounded from the shock, He was wide awake now and hating it.

 

He shifted around again onto his back, taking care not to fall off this time and Stared up at the bottom of the boat. Why, when it really mattered, was he always alone? What had he done to deserve this? He tried so hard to normalize his life, but something always, always came in and messed it up. The universe just seemed to be against him.

 

It was another hour of nothing but his thoughts before he fell asleep, and although he did not dream of his father, he remembered specific days he was with his brothers.

 

. . . . . . .

 

James rolled around on the couch, trying to find a comfortable position, but he just couldn't fall asleep, House's couch may not be very comfortable in the first place, but he'd never had any trouble falling asleep before.

 

House would think he was being pathetic if he saw him. He would ask what was bothering him, then mock him once he found out. Sometimes James wished held show just a thread more sympathy, though he had to admit that he wasn't being as much of an ass as he usually was. James liked that his friend could actually show that he was a friend, but this was House, and Sooner or later the sarcastic bastard he was would come back in full force.

 

James really didn't want to know what House would say, especially about the empty and alone feeling in his entire body. And although he wasn't physically alone, he sure as hell felt like it. His entire family was lost to him and he didn't know how to come up from that.

 

His mother, whom he'd always been close with was dead, taken away far earlier than held ever expected, His father was on the run, surprisingly doing a pretty good job if NCIS hadn't tracked him down yet, And David, who'd always been a little bit wild but never a major criminal, had gone and killed their mother and was hunting their father, Why? What motivated him to do this? What had their parents ever done to him?

 

James turned over and hurried his face in his pillow. What seemed to bother him the most though, was Antonio. He'd thought his little brother was dead, not made himself a whole new life. Antonio's new life seemed good, he was a cop most likely, no longer a drug addict, but separate from the rest of his family. James could not understand why Antonio would chose to recreate his life and pretend he had no siblings, pretend they didn't exist. How the hell could he just do that?

 

He was crying now, curled up and hugging his pillow to him as the only comfort he could get. He fell asleep like that, and his dreams were filled with memories of his brothers.

 

. . . . . . .

 

David carefully untangled himself from Julie's grip and the bed sheets and got up out of bed. The motel they were in was cheap, but it wasn't that bad. It did have a relatively good view of the small city they were in and as he leaned against the window sill he looked out and thought of home.

 

Jersey wasn't home; he never considered calling a place home like others viewed one. He couldn't settle in a place for too long, could it stay at a job for more than a year even though his mother had always thought he was still in an office management job. He could not keep anything, a girlfriend, an addiction -whether it be drugs or alcohol l- a car or a life.

 

He wasn't sure why he was this way. Maybe there was no expiration, or maybe it was because he started seeing things differently after Antonio ran away. It wasn't life altering, just different. Little things, like the way his father smiled, the way he praised James and the more relaxed he seemed to be.

 

Even though he'd been sixteen at the time, he still hadn't understood completely why his father was far happier. Not that he'd had time to ponder it. Scoring chicks and getting high had taken up most of his time.

 

The life altering change had occurred during the past Christmas when he'd been searching through his parent's attic for a particularly elusive ornament that his mom had sworn was there and found a box filled with Antonio's things. One of the items had been a journal Antonio had had for a year in which he talked about his plans to leave and why.

 

He had it now, the journal. It was a reminder of why he was doing this. He hated his father, probably as much as Antonio and he was going to give the man what he deserved. Antonio would never act against their father in revenge, that was never his way, but David was not above that and would get revenge for him.

 

Julie was just someone to get lost in after, because while he was determined to kill his father, a part of him was disgusted. He had chosen to take a path worse than the one he was already on and he just hoped that killing didn't become an addiction.

 

He would be on his own soon; no one would willingly embrace a killer except other killers. Julie he would keep in the dark as long as possible, but he could only get away with constantly hiding for so long before he got suspicious. She was attention seeking and money grabbing - just not enough that it would be obvious - and he didn't think he could keep her satisfied. James hadn't been able to, except James wasn't known for staying in a monogamist relationship so he wasn't a very good example.

 

"Our family is so fucked up," he mumbled, turning away from the window and going to stand by the bed.

 

It was ironic, how their father had wanted the perfect family only to get the exact opposite. They were all screwed up in some way and nothing their father had tried prevented that. It made their father just as screwed up as they were.

 

He climbed back into bed and wrapped himself around Julie, feeling her warmth seep into his body. He fell asleep content in the knowledge that for now he wasn't alone.