24. chapter twenty-four
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| Category | Slash >> Gibbs/DiNozzo |
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| Pairing | Gibbs/DiNozzo |
| Characters | Abby Sciuto, Anthony DiNozzo, Donald Mallard, Jimmy Palmer, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Original character, Timothy McGee, Ziva David |
| Rating | NC-17 |
| Genre | Angst, Case, Character study, First Time, Hurt/Comfort |
| Added | 28/05/2009 |
| Status | This story is completed |
Chapter Twenty-Four:
Their silent communication was interrupted when Tony started another bad spell of coughing. When it became clear that Tony wasn’t going to be able to stop it, Gibbs had reached over and wrapped an arm around Tony’s shoulders. He had eased Tony up into a sitting position and was holding him by the time Karen arrived in the room.
“Pound on his back gently, Gibbs. It’ll help loosen up the gunk in his lungs,” she said as she got several tissues to wipe at Tony’s mouth with.
“Don’t want,” more coughs, “back to sleep.” Gasping for air as he pushed at Karen, “Please don’t. . .” and any further attempt to communicate was stopped by the gut wrenching coughs.
“Tony, take small easy breaths,” Karen said encouragingly, as she wiped away more of the bloody mucus Tony had expelled. “I’m not going to give you another sedative. Just try to relax.”
Slowly the coughing stopped, leaving Tony panting and breathless.
“That was a bad one, but it was to be expected. You’ve been asleep a long time, and your body needed to readjust once you woke up. If you just lie still for a few minutes, your breathing will get a little better.” Karen said, as she was busy wiping down Tony’s face with a damp rag, all the while clucking reassuringly.
“Okay, let’s get you back down onto the bed,” Karen said, touching Gibbs’ arm to get him to lower Tony back down. Gibbs found himself reluctant to let go of Tony. He knew that his arms were the only things holding Tony up. He had felt the moment during the coughing fit in which Tony had relinquished all control to him. What he really wanted was to pull Tony closer, to protect him with his own body.
That thought embarrassed Gibbs, and to compensate he said, a little too gruffly, “Lay back DiNozzo, help me out here.” Even as the words left his mouth, he could feel Tony tense up.
“I’m good,” Tony managed to say, trying to ease himself back on the bed.
“Let me get the pillows repositioned under your head,” Karen said, reaching over to right the pillows which had slid down when Tony first started coughing.
“Thanks,” Tony panted out, as he let himself sink back, allowing the pillows to support his head.
“Well, it’s definitely nice to hear your voice,” Karen said, smiling at him. “How about I go get some ice chips and we try soothing your throat?” and she turned to leave after Tony nodded in agreement.
“I’m sorry, Boss,” Tony managed to say, once he had turned towards Gibbs, not quite meeting his eyes.
“Sorry for what Tony? You’ve got nothing to apologize for,” Gibbs said, not understanding what could be bothering Tony.
“For worrying you, letting you down, being weak. It’s all my fault, deserve this,” Tony gasped out, turning his head away from Gibbs, the effort of speaking draining him completely.
Gibbs was still trying to figure out what to say to that, upset that Tony could so easily think the worst about himself, when Karen came back into the room carrying a cup of ice. Giving them both a quick glance and noticing the tension in the room, she began an upbeat, inane monologue, determined to change the mood.
“I had been wondering what you would sound like. I had all kinds of different voices lined up in my head. There was the melodic tenor voice, but I didn’t think that really suited you, a little to sedate. Not edgy enough. Then there was the deep bass voice, the kind you can feel all the way down to your toes, but I didn’t expect that either. I think that Gibbs might be able to work that voice though, what do you think?” she asked, trying to draw Tony into the game and continued when she was rewarded with a small, half smile. “I ruled out the nasal, whiny soprano kind of voice immediately. Not at all right for a special agent. I’ll save that for the next patient who’s an accountant. Nope, I’m very pleased to inform you, Mr. Tony DiNozzo, that I think your voice sounds just right for you " a nice, pleasant baritone, just enough muscle without being too overpowering. Of course, I’m looking forward to hearing it in more that one word at a time increments. So how about opening up, and let’s see if some ice helps.” And she held the cup up to Tony’s lips and tilted in some ice.
Tony sucked on the ice, allowing it to drip down his throat. “S’good,” he said.
“Let’s try just a little more. I don’t want you to drink too much. We don’t want you to get sick to your stomach,” she said, as she lifted the cup back up to him.
After Tony had swallowed a little more ice, Karen went to work rearranging his covers and making sure that all of his IV lines and monitors were still attached properly. “I know Gibbs must be glad that you can speak again. I get the feeling he’s not a big talker. Bet he’ll be glad to have some help with the conversation.” As she said this she glanced over at Gibbs. He was still standing beside Tony’s bed, motionless. He looked lost in his own thoughts, not really registering on what was being said in the room. Tony was throwing occasional oblique glances his way, clearly bothered by something, and she wondered what she had interrupted when she had come back into the room.
“Well, I’d better go check on everyone else. I’ll be back later and maybe we can actually chat then,” she said, giving Tony an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “Don’t talk too much; you need to get some rest,” and she gathered up the soiled rag, and left the room.
That left Tony and Gibbs alone, frozen in the silence that had suddenly become oppressive. Finally Gibbs broke the mood slightly by moving back to his usual side of the bed. Looking at Tony he reached down and pulled his hand into his own, ignoring the resistance he felt.
“Look at me,” he said, and waited for Tony to comply before he continued.
“Tony, about what you said earlier. I don’t want you apologizing for anything.”
“Got it, don’t apologize, sign of weakness,” Tony croaked out, offering up a smile that didn’t ring true; his eyes looking guarded and tight.
“Not because it’s a sign of weakness, Tony. Because it’s not necessary. You didn’t do anything I might not have done myself.” He waited until Tony was looking him straight in the eye before he continued. “As for this being what you deserve, that’s just bullshit. No one deserves this, least of all you.” He watched Tony for his reaction, pleased when Tony’s face seemed to soften a little. Then he remembered something Karen had said to him yesterday.
“Tony, you could never let me down. I’m proud of you. You really are irreplaceable to me.” The look on Tony’s face told him that Karen had been right. That was what Tony had needed to hear. Tony’s green eyes shone bright and this time his smile was luminescent. His body relaxed completely, almost melting into the bed, leaving him looking completely spent and Gibbs realized just how much the facade Tony had been wearing had cost him.
“So are you Boss,” Tony said softly.
“You need to get some sleep Tony,” Gibbs said, worried about what he had just seen.
“Don’t want to, it’s all I’ve been doing, want to be awake,” Tony answered, although the fatigue in his voice belied his words. “We need to talk,” looking up at Gibbs.
“No, we don’t, not right now. Not when you’re in pain and so tired you can’t even think straight.” Gibbs paused as Tony coughed, waiting to see if he was building to another bad round. Once it seemed Tony was okay, he continued. “It’ll keep Tony. You’re not going anywhere and neither am I,” Gibbs assured him gently.
“I’m…”
“Don’t tell me you’re fine, because you’re not,” Gibbs said, interrupting him. “Tony this conversation has been waiting for a long time. It’ll keep for a few more days. We’ll get to it Tony, don’t worry. Don’t think we could avoid it even if we tried anymore.” Then to distract him, he said, “Why don’t you help me with my crossword for right now. I’ll read off the question and you can help me figure out the word?”
“Fine,” Tony answered, smirking just a little at Gibbs over his choice of word and Gibbs’ reaction to it. Tony gave Gibbs a smile, and then he released his hand so that he could sit down in the chair.
Pulling out the puzzle book, Gibbs turned to a new crossword. “Okay, here we go. Number one across, ‘word before blocker or testing’, four letters.”
“Beta,” came the answer from the bed.
“Maybe, let’s see what one down is. ‘Place for a rubber duck,’ seven letters. That’s bathtub. Looks like beta works. Good job, Tony. Let’s try another one and see if that was just a fluke. Okay, five across, ‘Chapstick target.’” When Tony didn’t answer right away, Gibbs looked over at him.
Tony’s eyes were starting to close involuntarily. Not wanting to do anything to stop that, Gibbs just continued talking. “I think that would be lips, don’t you? I’ll just pencil that in and we can see what five down is.”
When Gibbs looked over again, Tony’s eyes were shut tight. He sat listening as Tony’s labored breathing deepened. “That’s it Tony. You just go to sleep,” he said softly, not wanting to risk waking him.
Karen came in a while later, ostensibly to check on Tony, but Gibbs sensed she had more on her mind. “I see he’s fallen back to sleep,” she said, watching him as she tested Gibbs’ mood.
“Yep, he was pretty wiped out,” he answered in his normal voice, waiting to see what she would say next.
“It’s pretty hard to think clearly when you’re as sick as he is. He’s likely to say some things that don’t make the most sense, or aren’t really what he means,” she offered up.
“I got that Karen. Although it took me a bit; guess I’m a little slow on the uptake.”
“No, you’re just exhausted too. Be careful, that makes for a dangerous combination,” she cautioned.
“Oh yeah, I hear you. It’s okay, Karen. You don’t need to worry; but thanks.”
“No problem, the advice is free, but the nursing’s going to cost,” she said with a smile as she took her leave, happy to hear him chuckling behind her.
By the time Tony woke up again, Gibbs had abandoned the puzzle, and was reading the Clancy book.
“Boss?” he asked in a gravelly voice, speaking before his eyes were even open.
“I’m here Tony. Do you want some ice?” he asked as he stood up to get it.
“Pizza, want pizza,” Tony managed to croak.
“Little early for that,” Gibbs laughed. “Think that’ll have to wait until you’ve been weaned off the yummy looking grey goo they’re pumping into you.”
Tony laughed too, but it transformed into a cough.
“Easy Tony. Try to take small breaths. Don’t let it get out of control.” Gibbs reached over to the table and got a tissue. He leaned over Tony to wipe away the bloody secretions; looking at Tony carefully to make sure he hadn’t missed any.
Tony’s shaky hand reached up and touched Gibbs’ face. “Thank you,” he said, and Gibbs knew he wasn’t referring to the tissue.
“You’re welcome Tony,” Gibbs smiled, returning the touch, pleased that half spoken meanings seemed to be working for them.
“For being here,” Tony attempted to clarify.
“I know Tony. There’s no where else I’d rather be right now.”
Tony smiled, even though he was trying to suppress a cough.
Gibbs straightened up, and grabbed the cup of ice off the table. He held it up for Tony and said, “Take a small sip, Tony. It’ll help,” and was relieved when the coughing seemed to abate.
After catching his breath, Tony asked, “How’s the crossword coming?”
“Wasn’t as much fun without help. Put it away for later and started reading a Tom Clancy book Ducky left for me.” When he got no response he looked over at Tony, wondering if he was falling asleep again so quickly. Tony lay there looking at him, his top teeth worrying at his abused lower lip. Gibbs could tell that something was bothering him, but that he either didn’t know how to deal with it or was afraid. “Do you need something, Tony,” he asked gently.
“Boss, can you tell me everything that’s wrong with me?” Tony asked hesitantly.
Gibbs sighed; he had wondered when they were going to get to this. “Are you going to get upset?” he asked.
Tony shook his head. “Already know it’s bad. Can’t be worse than my imagination.”
Gibbs wasn’t so sure about that. The list of injuries still appalled him and he’d had several days to get used to the idea. For a brief second he considered glossing over a lot of it, but knew that Tony wouldn’t thank him for that later. “Before I tell you I want you to remember something. The doctors are all really pleased with your progress. They expect you to make a full recovery, so even if it sounds scary, you need to keep that in mind.” He waited until Tony nodded his understanding and then he began.
“You were in the warehouse for three nights. When we got there, you were on the ground, tied to a chair. Figure you’d been like that for most of the time. Lynch had beat you with his fists and a bat.” Gibbs paused a second. “You still okay Tony?” he asked. When Tony nodded, he reached out and took Tony’s hand, although he wasn’t sure which of them he was truly trying to comfort.
“You were barely breathing by the time we found you. Once you got to the hospital they took you directly to surgery. You had a tear in your aorta, and it was causing bleeding in the walls of your heart. They had to shock you twice, but they got it fixed. That’s what the bandages on your chest are from. Still okay?” he asked, because Tony had tightened his fingers around Gibbs’ hand when he heard his heart had stopped twice.
“You’ve got a broken leg they had to pin back together. It’ll be fine but probably require some therapy. You also have some broken ribs, a concussion and an impressive collection of cuts and bruises all over your body, but they’ll heal.” He stopped there, not really knowing what to say next.
“And pneumonia?” Tony asked.
“Yeah, you’ve got pneumonia. Brad thinks you developed it from a combination of the bruising to your lungs from the beating and the cold, damp warehouse floor you spent three nights on. You’re on the downhill side of it, though. The time you spent on the ventilator has helped with that Tony. They caught it almost immediately and you’ve been on antibiotics for the last three days. Your temperature is down, and they don’t seem to think the mucus and blood is excessive. It shouldn’t get any worse, only better.”
“My heart?”
“The doctors say it’ll be fine. Once the suturing heals, everything there will work as good as new.”
Gibbs waited for the next question, but it never came. Tony lay there, eyes wide, but saying nothing. He could practically see Tony’s brain working. He didn’t know if he should say something or not, so he decided to wait. Finally Tony spoke.
“Why?”
Gibbs was confused. “Why what, Tony?”
“Why’d he do it?”
Gibbs realized Tony was asking about Lynch. “He’s a sick S.O.B. Tony. All juiced up on crack; couldn’t think straight if he tried. He was in on the embezzlement scheme you were investigating. When you came to the warehouse he just flipped. Went completely crazy, and his partner, Nichols, just cleaned up after him and left you in a bloody heap to die.” He stopped, knowing his anger had seeped back into his words, and that he had said more than he had intended. Nichols actions angered him worse than Lynch’s " they were premeditated. Nichols didn’t have drugs as an excuse, only greed; Nichols had disgraced his uniform.
“But you got them.” Tony offered.
“Cassie’s team got them, with help from McGee and Ziva,” Gibbs said bitterly.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Like hell it doesn’t matter. They need to pay for what they did to you,” Gibbs said vehemently.
“Doesn’t matter who got them,” Tony said, guessing correctly that Gibbs was bothered by the fact that he hadn’t been able to dispense a little personal justice.
Gibbs was interrupted as he started to reply by the arrival of Dr. Pitt.
“Hey Tony,” Brad said as he entered the room.
Gibbs made to move out of the way, but Brad waved him off. “Stay where you are Gibbs. I’m just checking in to see how it’s going. You look better than last time I saw you, Tony. Never would have thought Gibbs would make a good nursemaid.”
“Man of hidden talents,” Tony replied. “So?” he then asked, expectantly.
“So, you really are doing better. Your oxygen levels have improved slightly, since this morning. They’re not where they need to be, but you’re making progress. If everything keeps going this well, I might even let you try eating a little jello tomorrow. I remember how much you like it.”
“All heart,” Tony answered, grimacing as he spoke. “I want pizza.”
“Don’t we all? You’re a ways away from that right now. Let’s get you eating soft foods and then we can move you onto a regular floor. Once you’re there the rest of your team can come visit and we’ll be a lot closer to getting you out of here. Gibbs’ll even be able to go home and get some decent clothes. I hate to see him dressed like that, makes him subject to the world’s ridicule.”
Gibbs looked down at himself. He laughed, having forgotten that he had put the OSU sweatshirt back on after his shower.
Tony’s answer was to give Brad the middle finger.
“See, I knew you were doing better,” Brad said.
“Seriously though Tony. You just need to sleep and let the medicine and your body work on healing you. Time is going to be your best friend on this. Try not to talk too much; I know that’s asking a lot of you, but it only aggravates the coughing and your throat. You’ll have lots of time to talk yourself silly later. I’m going to have them do another chest x-ray in the morning and we’ll see what your lungs look like after working on their own for a day. The results will pretty much dictate what we do next. I’ll see you again after I’ve looked them over.”
When he paused, Tony nodded and smiled at him. “Thanks Brad, for everything.”
“I think it’s the broken leg, Tony. Makes me feel guilty.” Brad teased, and waved his goodbyes.
“That settles it Tony, always knew you talked too much. Now it’s official.” Gibbs looked over at Tony, who had a self satisfied little smile on his face. “What, what are you thinking?”
Tony had been thinking about the fact that Gibbs had all but given up calling him DiNozzo. He’d been thinking about how nice it was to hear Gibbs say ‘Tony’. Not wanting to jinx it, he merely pantomimed zipping his mouth closed and smirked up at Gibbs.
“Okay Tony, have it your way for now,” getting more irritated when Tony’s smile widened at his response. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Tony could work him better than anyone else. He wondered for a brief second about what he was getting himself into, but let that thought go immediately. Deciding two could play Tony’s game, he went over to the CD player, put in the Miles Davis, and settled himself back in the chair. He picked up his book, waved it at Tony, and resumed reading. He couldn’t resist sneaking a peak at Tony, satisfied when he saw the startled look of outrage sweep across Tony’s face.
Gibbs found himself looking covertly up at Tony after each paragraph. Tony was looking over Gibbs shoulder, out the door of the room, his fingers beating in time with the music. It had now become a challenge between them " neither wanting to be the one to speak first.
The game continued for quite a while, the only sounds in the room being the music, the hum of the machines, and Tony’s breathing. Finally Gibbs heard what he had been waiting for.
“Boss?”
“Yes?” Gibbs asked.
“What other music do we have?”
Apparently he wasn’t going to learn what Tony had been thinking about, but he contented himself with the knowledge that he had won this round of the game. He dug the CD’s out of the bag and read the titles off to Tony. “Nice and Easy and From the Heart by Sinatra, Ascension by Coltrane, True Stories by The Talking Heads, Gnarls Barkley’s St. Elsewhere, and the Miles Davis we’re listening to now. Who the hell names a record after a TV show?” he wondered aloud.
“We’ll listen to it tomorrow and then you’ll know. It’s a little late in the day for that now. Would you put in Nice and Easy Boss?” coughing a little as he spoke.
“Sure Tony. Want to help me do a crossword?” Gibbs was feeling magnanimous after having won their game.
“Maybe in a little bit. Brad was right. I really am tired. Just going to lay here and rest for a bit.” That admission had not been easy, and Tony was glad when Gibbs didn’t comment on it. Instead, Tony closed his eyes and lay still, trying to stifle the coughs his body kept forcing out. The feel of something pressing against his mouth forced his eyes back open. Looking up, he saw Gibbs gently dabbing at his mouth, wiping away the effects of the coughs. Tony settled for smiling his thanks, and drifted off to sleep.
Tony was chained naked to the wall in a room under a street. He could hear cars rushing about over his head. His breathing was impaired by the gag in his mouth and the lack of oxygen in the room and he could tell he had been drugged with something. Blood dripped from his face onto his shoulder. Bones and skulls surrounded him, and rats waited against the wall, for their chance to get at their next meal. He pulled on the chains, gasping for breaths, looking for any sign of weakness in his bonds. Suddenly Jeffrey White simply materialized in the room. He walked over to Tony and placed a hand over the gag on his mouth, prodding at it with a finger. Then in a rude parody of a lover, he ran both of his hands slowly down Tony’s body, stopping when he got to Tony’s crotch. Roughly wrapping his fingers around Tony’s cock, he jerked at him. Against Tony’s will he could feel himself hardening. “That’s it Tony, I own you now. Come for me Tony.” White commanded. Then he leaned in and licked at the blood which was all over Tony’s face as he continued stroking him. Tony tried to pull away and when that didn’t work he cried out for Gibbs, but got no answer.
Gibbs was alerted to the nightmare sooner this time, thanks to Tony’s ability to speak. At first Tony was just coughing softly, but that devolved into moans and whimpers. Gibbs was on his feet in an instant, automatically reaching out to grab Tony’s hands, attempting to still them as they thrashed by his side. “Tony, wake up!” he cried. Tony buried his head in the pillow, as if trying to get away from something. He heard Tony call his name and then suddenly, an alarm Gibbs hadn’t heard before, went off. Karen came rushing into the room.
“He’s not breathing Gibbs. Sit him up quickly. Pound on his back.”
Gibbs yanked him up, doing as he was told, all the while pleading with Tony to wake up.
Suddenly Tony took a loud gasping breath and his eyes flew open. He looked wildly around the room, as if searching for something. His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt like he couldn’t get any air.
“Tony, calm down. It was only a dream,” Tony heard Gibbs saying. Slowly his eyes refocused and he saw Gibbs looking at him, alarm written all over his face.
“m’okay,” he managed before the coughing took over.
It took Gibbs and Karen several minutes to quell the latest fit. Once it seemed that Tony’s breathing had normalized, and all the remnants of the coughing had been cleaned away, Gibbs gently helped Tony lie back down, as he constantly reassured Tony softly. Once Karen had left the room, he took Tony’s tense hand and asked, “Tony, why don’t you tell me about the dream? Maybe it will help.”
Tony’s face flushed and he looked away. “I don’t remember it,” came the muffled reply.
Gibbs knew he was lying, but didn’t think it would do any good to call him on it. Instead, he said, “That’s okay, Tony. I’ll just sit here and hold your hand while you go back to sleep. You don’t need to worry about anything; I’ll be right here.” And he fell into silence.
They remained that way for a long time " Tony clinging stiffly to Gibbs’ hand, saying nothing " Gibbs offering up silent but constant support. Finally Gibbs knew Tony had fallen back asleep. The pressure on his hand relaxed, and Tony’s breathing changed into a slower, deeper rhythm. Reaching over, he ran his hand across Tony’s face, petting Tony’s hair softly in an attempt to offer further comfort. Gibbs realized that the dreams were going to have to be addressed. The fact that Tony had refused to discuss them alerted him to that fact. Tony very rarely directly lied. In his gut he knew that Tony couldn’t fully heal until he came to terms with what was haunting his sleep. Sighing deeply, Gibbs traced his fingers over Tony’s face once more, and then reached back for the chair, ready for another long night.
Their silent communication was interrupted when Tony started another bad spell of coughing. When it became clear that Tony wasn’t going to be able to stop it, Gibbs had reached over and wrapped an arm around Tony’s shoulders. He had eased Tony up into a sitting position and was holding him by the time Karen arrived in the room.
“Pound on his back gently, Gibbs. It’ll help loosen up the gunk in his lungs,” she said as she got several tissues to wipe at Tony’s mouth with.
“Don’t want,” more coughs, “back to sleep.” Gasping for air as he pushed at Karen, “Please don’t. . .” and any further attempt to communicate was stopped by the gut wrenching coughs.
“Tony, take small easy breaths,” Karen said encouragingly, as she wiped away more of the bloody mucus Tony had expelled. “I’m not going to give you another sedative. Just try to relax.”
Slowly the coughing stopped, leaving Tony panting and breathless.
“That was a bad one, but it was to be expected. You’ve been asleep a long time, and your body needed to readjust once you woke up. If you just lie still for a few minutes, your breathing will get a little better.” Karen said, as she was busy wiping down Tony’s face with a damp rag, all the while clucking reassuringly.
“Okay, let’s get you back down onto the bed,” Karen said, touching Gibbs’ arm to get him to lower Tony back down. Gibbs found himself reluctant to let go of Tony. He knew that his arms were the only things holding Tony up. He had felt the moment during the coughing fit in which Tony had relinquished all control to him. What he really wanted was to pull Tony closer, to protect him with his own body.
That thought embarrassed Gibbs, and to compensate he said, a little too gruffly, “Lay back DiNozzo, help me out here.” Even as the words left his mouth, he could feel Tony tense up.
“I’m good,” Tony managed to say, trying to ease himself back on the bed.
“Let me get the pillows repositioned under your head,” Karen said, reaching over to right the pillows which had slid down when Tony first started coughing.
“Thanks,” Tony panted out, as he let himself sink back, allowing the pillows to support his head.
“Well, it’s definitely nice to hear your voice,” Karen said, smiling at him. “How about I go get some ice chips and we try soothing your throat?” and she turned to leave after Tony nodded in agreement.
“I’m sorry, Boss,” Tony managed to say, once he had turned towards Gibbs, not quite meeting his eyes.
“Sorry for what Tony? You’ve got nothing to apologize for,” Gibbs said, not understanding what could be bothering Tony.
“For worrying you, letting you down, being weak. It’s all my fault, deserve this,” Tony gasped out, turning his head away from Gibbs, the effort of speaking draining him completely.
Gibbs was still trying to figure out what to say to that, upset that Tony could so easily think the worst about himself, when Karen came back into the room carrying a cup of ice. Giving them both a quick glance and noticing the tension in the room, she began an upbeat, inane monologue, determined to change the mood.
“I had been wondering what you would sound like. I had all kinds of different voices lined up in my head. There was the melodic tenor voice, but I didn’t think that really suited you, a little to sedate. Not edgy enough. Then there was the deep bass voice, the kind you can feel all the way down to your toes, but I didn’t expect that either. I think that Gibbs might be able to work that voice though, what do you think?” she asked, trying to draw Tony into the game and continued when she was rewarded with a small, half smile. “I ruled out the nasal, whiny soprano kind of voice immediately. Not at all right for a special agent. I’ll save that for the next patient who’s an accountant. Nope, I’m very pleased to inform you, Mr. Tony DiNozzo, that I think your voice sounds just right for you " a nice, pleasant baritone, just enough muscle without being too overpowering. Of course, I’m looking forward to hearing it in more that one word at a time increments. So how about opening up, and let’s see if some ice helps.” And she held the cup up to Tony’s lips and tilted in some ice.
Tony sucked on the ice, allowing it to drip down his throat. “S’good,” he said.
“Let’s try just a little more. I don’t want you to drink too much. We don’t want you to get sick to your stomach,” she said, as she lifted the cup back up to him.
After Tony had swallowed a little more ice, Karen went to work rearranging his covers and making sure that all of his IV lines and monitors were still attached properly. “I know Gibbs must be glad that you can speak again. I get the feeling he’s not a big talker. Bet he’ll be glad to have some help with the conversation.” As she said this she glanced over at Gibbs. He was still standing beside Tony’s bed, motionless. He looked lost in his own thoughts, not really registering on what was being said in the room. Tony was throwing occasional oblique glances his way, clearly bothered by something, and she wondered what she had interrupted when she had come back into the room.
“Well, I’d better go check on everyone else. I’ll be back later and maybe we can actually chat then,” she said, giving Tony an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “Don’t talk too much; you need to get some rest,” and she gathered up the soiled rag, and left the room.
That left Tony and Gibbs alone, frozen in the silence that had suddenly become oppressive. Finally Gibbs broke the mood slightly by moving back to his usual side of the bed. Looking at Tony he reached down and pulled his hand into his own, ignoring the resistance he felt.
“Look at me,” he said, and waited for Tony to comply before he continued.
“Tony, about what you said earlier. I don’t want you apologizing for anything.”
“Got it, don’t apologize, sign of weakness,” Tony croaked out, offering up a smile that didn’t ring true; his eyes looking guarded and tight.
“Not because it’s a sign of weakness, Tony. Because it’s not necessary. You didn’t do anything I might not have done myself.” He waited until Tony was looking him straight in the eye before he continued. “As for this being what you deserve, that’s just bullshit. No one deserves this, least of all you.” He watched Tony for his reaction, pleased when Tony’s face seemed to soften a little. Then he remembered something Karen had said to him yesterday.
“Tony, you could never let me down. I’m proud of you. You really are irreplaceable to me.” The look on Tony’s face told him that Karen had been right. That was what Tony had needed to hear. Tony’s green eyes shone bright and this time his smile was luminescent. His body relaxed completely, almost melting into the bed, leaving him looking completely spent and Gibbs realized just how much the facade Tony had been wearing had cost him.
“So are you Boss,” Tony said softly.
“You need to get some sleep Tony,” Gibbs said, worried about what he had just seen.
“Don’t want to, it’s all I’ve been doing, want to be awake,” Tony answered, although the fatigue in his voice belied his words. “We need to talk,” looking up at Gibbs.
“No, we don’t, not right now. Not when you’re in pain and so tired you can’t even think straight.” Gibbs paused as Tony coughed, waiting to see if he was building to another bad round. Once it seemed Tony was okay, he continued. “It’ll keep Tony. You’re not going anywhere and neither am I,” Gibbs assured him gently.
“I’m…”
“Don’t tell me you’re fine, because you’re not,” Gibbs said, interrupting him. “Tony this conversation has been waiting for a long time. It’ll keep for a few more days. We’ll get to it Tony, don’t worry. Don’t think we could avoid it even if we tried anymore.” Then to distract him, he said, “Why don’t you help me with my crossword for right now. I’ll read off the question and you can help me figure out the word?”
“Fine,” Tony answered, smirking just a little at Gibbs over his choice of word and Gibbs’ reaction to it. Tony gave Gibbs a smile, and then he released his hand so that he could sit down in the chair.
Pulling out the puzzle book, Gibbs turned to a new crossword. “Okay, here we go. Number one across, ‘word before blocker or testing’, four letters.”
“Beta,” came the answer from the bed.
“Maybe, let’s see what one down is. ‘Place for a rubber duck,’ seven letters. That’s bathtub. Looks like beta works. Good job, Tony. Let’s try another one and see if that was just a fluke. Okay, five across, ‘Chapstick target.’” When Tony didn’t answer right away, Gibbs looked over at him.
Tony’s eyes were starting to close involuntarily. Not wanting to do anything to stop that, Gibbs just continued talking. “I think that would be lips, don’t you? I’ll just pencil that in and we can see what five down is.”
When Gibbs looked over again, Tony’s eyes were shut tight. He sat listening as Tony’s labored breathing deepened. “That’s it Tony. You just go to sleep,” he said softly, not wanting to risk waking him.
Karen came in a while later, ostensibly to check on Tony, but Gibbs sensed she had more on her mind. “I see he’s fallen back to sleep,” she said, watching him as she tested Gibbs’ mood.
“Yep, he was pretty wiped out,” he answered in his normal voice, waiting to see what she would say next.
“It’s pretty hard to think clearly when you’re as sick as he is. He’s likely to say some things that don’t make the most sense, or aren’t really what he means,” she offered up.
“I got that Karen. Although it took me a bit; guess I’m a little slow on the uptake.”
“No, you’re just exhausted too. Be careful, that makes for a dangerous combination,” she cautioned.
“Oh yeah, I hear you. It’s okay, Karen. You don’t need to worry; but thanks.”
“No problem, the advice is free, but the nursing’s going to cost,” she said with a smile as she took her leave, happy to hear him chuckling behind her.
By the time Tony woke up again, Gibbs had abandoned the puzzle, and was reading the Clancy book.
“Boss?” he asked in a gravelly voice, speaking before his eyes were even open.
“I’m here Tony. Do you want some ice?” he asked as he stood up to get it.
“Pizza, want pizza,” Tony managed to croak.
“Little early for that,” Gibbs laughed. “Think that’ll have to wait until you’ve been weaned off the yummy looking grey goo they’re pumping into you.”
Tony laughed too, but it transformed into a cough.
“Easy Tony. Try to take small breaths. Don’t let it get out of control.” Gibbs reached over to the table and got a tissue. He leaned over Tony to wipe away the bloody secretions; looking at Tony carefully to make sure he hadn’t missed any.
Tony’s shaky hand reached up and touched Gibbs’ face. “Thank you,” he said, and Gibbs knew he wasn’t referring to the tissue.
“You’re welcome Tony,” Gibbs smiled, returning the touch, pleased that half spoken meanings seemed to be working for them.
“For being here,” Tony attempted to clarify.
“I know Tony. There’s no where else I’d rather be right now.”
Tony smiled, even though he was trying to suppress a cough.
Gibbs straightened up, and grabbed the cup of ice off the table. He held it up for Tony and said, “Take a small sip, Tony. It’ll help,” and was relieved when the coughing seemed to abate.
After catching his breath, Tony asked, “How’s the crossword coming?”
“Wasn’t as much fun without help. Put it away for later and started reading a Tom Clancy book Ducky left for me.” When he got no response he looked over at Tony, wondering if he was falling asleep again so quickly. Tony lay there looking at him, his top teeth worrying at his abused lower lip. Gibbs could tell that something was bothering him, but that he either didn’t know how to deal with it or was afraid. “Do you need something, Tony,” he asked gently.
“Boss, can you tell me everything that’s wrong with me?” Tony asked hesitantly.
Gibbs sighed; he had wondered when they were going to get to this. “Are you going to get upset?” he asked.
Tony shook his head. “Already know it’s bad. Can’t be worse than my imagination.”
Gibbs wasn’t so sure about that. The list of injuries still appalled him and he’d had several days to get used to the idea. For a brief second he considered glossing over a lot of it, but knew that Tony wouldn’t thank him for that later. “Before I tell you I want you to remember something. The doctors are all really pleased with your progress. They expect you to make a full recovery, so even if it sounds scary, you need to keep that in mind.” He waited until Tony nodded his understanding and then he began.
“You were in the warehouse for three nights. When we got there, you were on the ground, tied to a chair. Figure you’d been like that for most of the time. Lynch had beat you with his fists and a bat.” Gibbs paused a second. “You still okay Tony?” he asked. When Tony nodded, he reached out and took Tony’s hand, although he wasn’t sure which of them he was truly trying to comfort.
“You were barely breathing by the time we found you. Once you got to the hospital they took you directly to surgery. You had a tear in your aorta, and it was causing bleeding in the walls of your heart. They had to shock you twice, but they got it fixed. That’s what the bandages on your chest are from. Still okay?” he asked, because Tony had tightened his fingers around Gibbs’ hand when he heard his heart had stopped twice.
“You’ve got a broken leg they had to pin back together. It’ll be fine but probably require some therapy. You also have some broken ribs, a concussion and an impressive collection of cuts and bruises all over your body, but they’ll heal.” He stopped there, not really knowing what to say next.
“And pneumonia?” Tony asked.
“Yeah, you’ve got pneumonia. Brad thinks you developed it from a combination of the bruising to your lungs from the beating and the cold, damp warehouse floor you spent three nights on. You’re on the downhill side of it, though. The time you spent on the ventilator has helped with that Tony. They caught it almost immediately and you’ve been on antibiotics for the last three days. Your temperature is down, and they don’t seem to think the mucus and blood is excessive. It shouldn’t get any worse, only better.”
“My heart?”
“The doctors say it’ll be fine. Once the suturing heals, everything there will work as good as new.”
Gibbs waited for the next question, but it never came. Tony lay there, eyes wide, but saying nothing. He could practically see Tony’s brain working. He didn’t know if he should say something or not, so he decided to wait. Finally Tony spoke.
“Why?”
Gibbs was confused. “Why what, Tony?”
“Why’d he do it?”
Gibbs realized Tony was asking about Lynch. “He’s a sick S.O.B. Tony. All juiced up on crack; couldn’t think straight if he tried. He was in on the embezzlement scheme you were investigating. When you came to the warehouse he just flipped. Went completely crazy, and his partner, Nichols, just cleaned up after him and left you in a bloody heap to die.” He stopped, knowing his anger had seeped back into his words, and that he had said more than he had intended. Nichols actions angered him worse than Lynch’s " they were premeditated. Nichols didn’t have drugs as an excuse, only greed; Nichols had disgraced his uniform.
“But you got them.” Tony offered.
“Cassie’s team got them, with help from McGee and Ziva,” Gibbs said bitterly.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Like hell it doesn’t matter. They need to pay for what they did to you,” Gibbs said vehemently.
“Doesn’t matter who got them,” Tony said, guessing correctly that Gibbs was bothered by the fact that he hadn’t been able to dispense a little personal justice.
Gibbs was interrupted as he started to reply by the arrival of Dr. Pitt.
“Hey Tony,” Brad said as he entered the room.
Gibbs made to move out of the way, but Brad waved him off. “Stay where you are Gibbs. I’m just checking in to see how it’s going. You look better than last time I saw you, Tony. Never would have thought Gibbs would make a good nursemaid.”
“Man of hidden talents,” Tony replied. “So?” he then asked, expectantly.
“So, you really are doing better. Your oxygen levels have improved slightly, since this morning. They’re not where they need to be, but you’re making progress. If everything keeps going this well, I might even let you try eating a little jello tomorrow. I remember how much you like it.”
“All heart,” Tony answered, grimacing as he spoke. “I want pizza.”
“Don’t we all? You’re a ways away from that right now. Let’s get you eating soft foods and then we can move you onto a regular floor. Once you’re there the rest of your team can come visit and we’ll be a lot closer to getting you out of here. Gibbs’ll even be able to go home and get some decent clothes. I hate to see him dressed like that, makes him subject to the world’s ridicule.”
Gibbs looked down at himself. He laughed, having forgotten that he had put the OSU sweatshirt back on after his shower.
Tony’s answer was to give Brad the middle finger.
“See, I knew you were doing better,” Brad said.
“Seriously though Tony. You just need to sleep and let the medicine and your body work on healing you. Time is going to be your best friend on this. Try not to talk too much; I know that’s asking a lot of you, but it only aggravates the coughing and your throat. You’ll have lots of time to talk yourself silly later. I’m going to have them do another chest x-ray in the morning and we’ll see what your lungs look like after working on their own for a day. The results will pretty much dictate what we do next. I’ll see you again after I’ve looked them over.”
When he paused, Tony nodded and smiled at him. “Thanks Brad, for everything.”
“I think it’s the broken leg, Tony. Makes me feel guilty.” Brad teased, and waved his goodbyes.
“That settles it Tony, always knew you talked too much. Now it’s official.” Gibbs looked over at Tony, who had a self satisfied little smile on his face. “What, what are you thinking?”
Tony had been thinking about the fact that Gibbs had all but given up calling him DiNozzo. He’d been thinking about how nice it was to hear Gibbs say ‘Tony’. Not wanting to jinx it, he merely pantomimed zipping his mouth closed and smirked up at Gibbs.
“Okay Tony, have it your way for now,” getting more irritated when Tony’s smile widened at his response. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Tony could work him better than anyone else. He wondered for a brief second about what he was getting himself into, but let that thought go immediately. Deciding two could play Tony’s game, he went over to the CD player, put in the Miles Davis, and settled himself back in the chair. He picked up his book, waved it at Tony, and resumed reading. He couldn’t resist sneaking a peak at Tony, satisfied when he saw the startled look of outrage sweep across Tony’s face.
Gibbs found himself looking covertly up at Tony after each paragraph. Tony was looking over Gibbs shoulder, out the door of the room, his fingers beating in time with the music. It had now become a challenge between them " neither wanting to be the one to speak first.
The game continued for quite a while, the only sounds in the room being the music, the hum of the machines, and Tony’s breathing. Finally Gibbs heard what he had been waiting for.
“Boss?”
“Yes?” Gibbs asked.
“What other music do we have?”
Apparently he wasn’t going to learn what Tony had been thinking about, but he contented himself with the knowledge that he had won this round of the game. He dug the CD’s out of the bag and read the titles off to Tony. “Nice and Easy and From the Heart by Sinatra, Ascension by Coltrane, True Stories by The Talking Heads, Gnarls Barkley’s St. Elsewhere, and the Miles Davis we’re listening to now. Who the hell names a record after a TV show?” he wondered aloud.
“We’ll listen to it tomorrow and then you’ll know. It’s a little late in the day for that now. Would you put in Nice and Easy Boss?” coughing a little as he spoke.
“Sure Tony. Want to help me do a crossword?” Gibbs was feeling magnanimous after having won their game.
“Maybe in a little bit. Brad was right. I really am tired. Just going to lay here and rest for a bit.” That admission had not been easy, and Tony was glad when Gibbs didn’t comment on it. Instead, Tony closed his eyes and lay still, trying to stifle the coughs his body kept forcing out. The feel of something pressing against his mouth forced his eyes back open. Looking up, he saw Gibbs gently dabbing at his mouth, wiping away the effects of the coughs. Tony settled for smiling his thanks, and drifted off to sleep.
Tony was chained naked to the wall in a room under a street. He could hear cars rushing about over his head. His breathing was impaired by the gag in his mouth and the lack of oxygen in the room and he could tell he had been drugged with something. Blood dripped from his face onto his shoulder. Bones and skulls surrounded him, and rats waited against the wall, for their chance to get at their next meal. He pulled on the chains, gasping for breaths, looking for any sign of weakness in his bonds. Suddenly Jeffrey White simply materialized in the room. He walked over to Tony and placed a hand over the gag on his mouth, prodding at it with a finger. Then in a rude parody of a lover, he ran both of his hands slowly down Tony’s body, stopping when he got to Tony’s crotch. Roughly wrapping his fingers around Tony’s cock, he jerked at him. Against Tony’s will he could feel himself hardening. “That’s it Tony, I own you now. Come for me Tony.” White commanded. Then he leaned in and licked at the blood which was all over Tony’s face as he continued stroking him. Tony tried to pull away and when that didn’t work he cried out for Gibbs, but got no answer.
Gibbs was alerted to the nightmare sooner this time, thanks to Tony’s ability to speak. At first Tony was just coughing softly, but that devolved into moans and whimpers. Gibbs was on his feet in an instant, automatically reaching out to grab Tony’s hands, attempting to still them as they thrashed by his side. “Tony, wake up!” he cried. Tony buried his head in the pillow, as if trying to get away from something. He heard Tony call his name and then suddenly, an alarm Gibbs hadn’t heard before, went off. Karen came rushing into the room.
“He’s not breathing Gibbs. Sit him up quickly. Pound on his back.”
Gibbs yanked him up, doing as he was told, all the while pleading with Tony to wake up.
Suddenly Tony took a loud gasping breath and his eyes flew open. He looked wildly around the room, as if searching for something. His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt like he couldn’t get any air.
“Tony, calm down. It was only a dream,” Tony heard Gibbs saying. Slowly his eyes refocused and he saw Gibbs looking at him, alarm written all over his face.
“m’okay,” he managed before the coughing took over.
It took Gibbs and Karen several minutes to quell the latest fit. Once it seemed that Tony’s breathing had normalized, and all the remnants of the coughing had been cleaned away, Gibbs gently helped Tony lie back down, as he constantly reassured Tony softly. Once Karen had left the room, he took Tony’s tense hand and asked, “Tony, why don’t you tell me about the dream? Maybe it will help.”
Tony’s face flushed and he looked away. “I don’t remember it,” came the muffled reply.
Gibbs knew he was lying, but didn’t think it would do any good to call him on it. Instead, he said, “That’s okay, Tony. I’ll just sit here and hold your hand while you go back to sleep. You don’t need to worry about anything; I’ll be right here.” And he fell into silence.
They remained that way for a long time " Tony clinging stiffly to Gibbs’ hand, saying nothing " Gibbs offering up silent but constant support. Finally Gibbs knew Tony had fallen back asleep. The pressure on his hand relaxed, and Tony’s breathing changed into a slower, deeper rhythm. Reaching over, he ran his hand across Tony’s face, petting Tony’s hair softly in an attempt to offer further comfort. Gibbs realized that the dreams were going to have to be addressed. The fact that Tony had refused to discuss them alerted him to that fact. Tony very rarely directly lied. In his gut he knew that Tony couldn’t fully heal until he came to terms with what was haunting his sleep. Sighing deeply, Gibbs traced his fingers over Tony’s face once more, and then reached back for the chair, ready for another long night.
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