Chapter Text
Tony gazed into the interview room and bit back a sigh. He really really didn't want to do this, but PO Shane Michaels wasn't really giving him a choice. Shane hadn't connected with Ziva, obviously, because she couldn't do sympathetic and caring to save a life. Gibbs was too much like Shane's Marine husband, and thus the root of the problem. Normally, when the battered spouse didn't want help, there wasn't a whole lot they could do, but Michaels had a kid involved, and Tony was going to swallow his pride before he left a kid in that situation.
Finally gathering his strength, and thankful that only McGee was watching, Tony straightened his shoulders and entered the room. Shane Michaels was sitting ramrod straight, looking dead ahead and refusing to acknowledge anyone in the room, just as he had when Ziva and Gibbs had tried talking to him earlier, before deciding to go sit on the husband and wait for him to screw up.
Tony walked over and sat gently in the chair, taking in the black eye, the sweat on his neck, the slight tremor in his leg that said he wanted to be tapping it. "Do you want a tylenol or something, Petty Officer Michaels?" he asked quietly.
Michaels shook his head, and Tony bit back another sigh. "I was told your son will be released from the hospital tonight or tomorrow."
"Is he alright?" Shane asked quickly.
"He'll heal, physically," Tony allowed.
"Will I be out of here by then, Sir?"
Tony shrugged. "No idea. That's up to my boss. But I'm sure your husband will be able to pick him up, if not." They now knew it was the husband doing the abusing, but with Shane refusing to admit it, they had no way to arrest him unless he lost his cool in front of them.
Shane's expression tightened, and Tony knew that he was upset. "You here to tell me to leave him?"
"Get that alot, huh?" Tony asked. "Well, nope, not my job."
Shane's mouth quirked slightly in a hint of a smirk. "You here to tell me to turn on him?"
"In theory," Tony shrugged. "That's at least closer to my job description."
"He loves me," Shane insisted.
"Probably," Tony agreed. "They aren't mutually exclusive."
"I love him," Shane protested.
"Not sure I believe that," Tony said, entering the rocky waters he had been so hoping to avoid. Shane gaped at him, and Tony pressed on. "It's different for law enforcement and military types than for regular people. You spend months in the Academy or Basic having someone abuse you verbally and physically, and all 'for your own good'." He deliberately used air quotes. "Then you're told by society that you're a big strong warrior man who shouldn't take abuse from anyone, or else you're weak. It's a mindfuck. And one that deliberately teaches you to accept abuse and say 'thank you sir, can I have another.'"
Shane finally stopped gaping, but he looked confused, which Tony hoped meant that he was finally willing to listen. Time to put his cards on the table. "Look, I'm sure you've heard this before too, but I get where you're coming from. Someone I loved and respected used to do that to me."
He didn't say anything, but Shane's expression was entirely skeptical.
Tony scoffed gently. "Yeah, I know, that's always the line on TV, but I'm not here to blow smoke. When it happened to me… At first I protested, but eventually I stopped. It crept up on me, you know? Until I didn't see anything wrong with it anymore either. He kept telling me I deserved it and I believed him. Everyone around us seemed to agree, or saw it as no big deal." Tony shrugged.
Shane was scowling, but Tony got the distinct impression that he was finally listening, at least. After a while, deliberately not looking Tony in the eye, he asked, "What happened?"
"To me and him?" Tony clarified. "Eventually it became too much. A friend I trusted got me to see the light. Reset my scale of things that were okay and things that weren't."
"So you left him."
"No," Tony sighed. "I stayed."
"Why?" Shane was openly staring at Tony.
"I had reasons and excuses to stay, and I kept telling myself that they were true and important. But something did break: I stopped loving and respecting him. That's why I said earlier I'm not so sure I believe you still love him. Though maybe that's not completely broken for you just yet; I don't know." Tony shrugged again.
Shane thought about that for a long moment, the silence stretching between them, before quietly asking, "Does he still hit you?"
Tony quirked one brow. "When he wants to."
"But you still haven't left?" Shane pressed.
"Haven't found a reason to leave that's stronger than my excuses to stay," Tony admitted. After a short pause, he added, "He doesn't hurt anyone else as badly, though I'm sure he'd lay into someone new if I left."
"You're staying to protect them?"
"It's one factor," Tony agreed. They both knew, without him saying, that it wasn't the only reason.
Shane was quiet for a few minutes, then, finally, he said, "This was the first time Ethan went after Jake."
"Hitting you isn't enough to satisfy him anymore," Tony said. "Or he doesn't care enough to reign in his temper around Jake. Or he thinks that Jake deserves it the same way he thinks you do."
Shane's head snapped up, fury in his eyes. "Jake doesn't deserve this at all," he growled.
"I agree," Tony said gently. "But you taking hits for him isn't enough anymore. So what are you going to do to protect Jake now?"
With a massive sigh, Shane sank back into his seat. "Alright, I'll make a statement."
Tony quickly walked him through the process, then pulled out his phone. Once Gibbs answered, Tony gave him the go ahead to pick up Ethan Michaels, and to bring Jake here to join Shane in protective custody once he was released from the hospital.
Once that was done, Tony started to leave the room, but Shane's quiet voice pulled him back. "What are you going to do now?"
Offering him a small smile, Tony told the truth. "For now? Nothing. Get back to work. But maybe one day I'll be as strong as you."
Tony left the interview room, walked past McGee, who was halfway out of the door to Observation, and looked like he was about to cry, and quickly slipped into the elevator. As he reached for the usual button for the bullpen, Tony made a snap decision and chose the parking garage instead. They'd been in the office for over 72 hours, and he didn't feel like forcing himself to do paperwork at his desk right now. With Gibbs and Ziva picking up the husband and Cassie's team already at the hospital with Jake, there was nothing left for him to do.
Tony made fairly good time getting home, despite the rush hour traffic, and was just walking into his apartment when Gibbs called. "Husband's in a holding cell," he said gruffly.
"Great," Tony said. He had been waiting to hear that the other two were back safely. "You'll have my paperwork first thing after I've gotten some sleep and the words stop swimming on the screen, Boss."
Gibbs hung up, but Tony knew from experience that that meant he approved. If he'd wanted Tony back he would have complained or given an order. Tony stared at his phone and then, deliberately, turned it off.
Dropping his phone, keys, and badge on the table, Tony quickly locked his gun in the safe. Then he headed to his room, intent on a quick shower. While there, he assessed his options. Turning off his phone was a temporary measure at best: everyone knew where he lived and had no compunctions about dropping by. If he really wanted to drop off the radar for the night, he couldn't stay here.
Fortunately, Tony knew where he could go.
As soon as he felt clean, he climbed out of his shower and grabbed his personal cell. Dressing in jeans and a t-shirt while he talked, he quickly struck a deal. Then, after tossing his laptop and a few things into his duffle and grabbing his last bag of frozen homemade pasta from the freezer, Tony slipped back out of his apartment.