28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
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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 | 29/05/2009 |
| Status | This story is completed |
Chapter Twenty-Eight:
8:00 a.m. found Gibbs pacing the room like a caged tiger and Tony lying in bed watching the news, trying to ignore Gibbs. They were both nervous, wondering what Dr. Anderson wanted to discuss with them, and were trying to deal with their anxiety with the only options available to them. When Dr. Anderson walked through the door a few minutes later, Gibbs pounced on him
“What did you want to talk about?” he demanded.
“Good morning to you too, Gibbs,” Dr. Anderson laughed. Then he looked over at the bed, inclined his head, and said, “Tony.”
Tony smiled his greeting.
“Why don’t we pull up a couple of chairs and then we can talk,” suggested Dr. Anderson.
Gibbs stomach contracted and flipped. In his experience only bad things followed the suggestion, ‘let’s sit down and talk’.
“I’m just fine standing,” he said, irrationally believing that a refusal to sit would ward off unpleasant news.
“Okay, well, I wanted to discuss what happens next.” Dr. Anderson said.
“Excuse me?” Gibbs replied, not following him.
“Next, after Tony gets released.”
“Is that going to happen soon?” Tony asked excitedly.
“I was thinking about tomorrow. If you think you can deal with that?” Dr. Anderson said, grinning as Tony literally bounced up and down on the bed with glee.
“Looks like that works for him,” Gibbs observed dryly, secretly wishing he could be as effusive as Tony. “What time will he be released?” he asked, speaking loudly enough to be heard over the top of Tony’s celebration.
“Early afternoon I should think,” was the reply. “We’ll want to take some final x-rays, just to confirm the healing process and respiratory therapy will want to have a final session with him. The nurses will need to go over all of his medications and the care needed for the various wounds and incisions. He’ll need to schedule follow up visits with Dr. Pitt and the ortho guy.” He paused, letting all that information sink in, and then continued. “Do we need to send over an occupational therapist to help him figure out how to manage on his own until he’s healed?” Dr. Anderson asked, already suspecting what the answer would be.
“That won’t be necessary. He’s going to be staying at my house until he’s better. His apartment would be too hard to navigate on crutches. I’ll be here in the morning so that I can hear all of the instructions too.”
Tony had quieted down by this point and was listening closely to the conversation.
“What about work, Boss?” he asked.
“Vance’ll give me another day off. It’s not like we’re working a big case right now.” Gibbs shrugged off the question.
“Well then, since that’s settled we need to talk about what you need to do once you’re home Tony,” Dr. Anderson said.
“Get back to having a life!” was Tony’s quick response.
“I wasn’t aware you were dead, DiNozzo,” was Gibbs’ sharp retort, inexplicably hurt by Tony’s comment.
“You know what I mean, Boss. I get to shower, wear real clothes, go outside, eat what I want, watch a movie, take a walk; stuff like that.”
“Not quite,” said Dr. Anderson, amused by Tony and sorry he was about to burst his bubble. “You get to rest in bed, eat a balanced diet of relatively bland foods, take your medicine on a regular schedule, do your breathing exercises, stay off that leg, and keep the incisions dry and clean. Oh, and did I mention sleep, as regularly and as much as possible. But you do get do all that in a more comfortable bed with better scenery. You will not overexert yourself, lift anything too heavy, or spend too much time on your feet.”
“Heard and noted, Doctor,” said Gibbs, glaring meaningfully as Tony. “You can count on him behaving.”
“Alright then, I’ll see you both tomorrow,” Dr. Anderson said, as he turned to leave.
“Tony, I’ve got to go too, or I’ll be late. We can plan things out when I get back,” and with that Gibbs was gone.
Tony looked at the now empty room and sighed, “Well, Happy Birthday to me,” and prepared himself for a very long day of doing nothing.
Gibbs, on the other hand, was busily plotting out how he was going to get everything done that he needed to accomplish that day. He needed get to his house at some point to shower, change and get the guest room ready. He should probably do some grocery shopping, sure that any food in the frig was long past its expiration date, and he needed to run over to Tony’s place to pick up some clothes and toiletries. Oh yeah, he also had to put in an eight hour day at work. By the time he got to the office he had a plan " he was going to divide and conquer.
When he got up to the bullpen, he immediately called Abby up from the lab. Once she got upstairs, had been hugged and handed a caf-pow, Gibbs was ready to launch his battle plan.
“Okay people, campfire!” he announced, smirking at the shocked expressions on their faces at his use of Tony’s term, but sitting down at his desk, waiting for them to gather round.
“DiNozzo’s being released to me tomorrow and we’ve got a lot to do. Everyone is working an extra hour tonight. That way we can each take a longer lunch. Anyone got a problem with that?” he asked, daring them to object.
“Um, sure? No problem. You got it, Bossman!” were all said simultaneously.
“Good. Now, Abby and McGee, at lunch I want you to take Tony’s extra key and go over to his apartment and get what he’ll need to spend about a week or so at my place. Remember to bring one change of clothes back here so he has something to wear home tomorrow. Ziva, over your lunch hour I need you to go to the grocery store and pick up some staples. I’m pretty low on food at home and we all know how DiNozzo likes to eat. Oh, and Ziva? He’s on a bland diet, so make sure its all healthy stuff. You can all swing by my house and drop everything off, the door’s unlocked. Questions?”
“On it Boss! That will be fine. Nope!” were the only responses.
When lunch rolled around Gibbs’ troupes deployed. Gibbs rushed back to his house and took care of his personal needs, then headed back to NCIS to talk to Vance, needing to get the next day off. He was shocked when Vance not only gave him Friday off, but reminded him that Monday was Memorial Day and they were all off then too. Gibbs had been so caught up in what was happening with Tony he had completely lost track of the calendar. Perfect! He thought to himself as he went back down to the bullpen. He had four full days to get Tony completely settled in.
Everyone returned from their appointed tasks, reporting success and time seemed to stop for Gibbs. 6:00 took forever to arrive. At last it was time to leave, grabbing Tony’s clothes Gibbs headed back to the hospital, very pleased with himself, eager to see Tony.
Unfortunately for Gibbs, the Tony that lay waiting for him was not the same, excited Tony he had left behind early that morning. The Tony that now resided in the hospital bed was the Tony who had been left to his own boredom, memories, and worries for too many hours that day, with no way of distracting himself. This was the Tony who didn’t think he was worth any fuss; the Tony who was always afraid he was about to let someone down. This Tony sat staring at the television, pretending to be absorbed in some game show. Gibbs tried ignoring the mood change at first, talking about the day as if Tony had expressed an interest. When that didn’t work, he resorted to humor, poking fun at the contestants on the T.V. show, hoping to get Tony to play along. Finally, on his last nerve, Gibbs confronted Tony.
“Want to tell me what’s eating at you Tony?” he demanded. “You should be happy. You get to leave here tomorrow, instead you’re pouting like a baby.”
Tony gave a bitter laugh. “That’s right Gibbs, ‘like a baby’, that’s a good way to describe me. Just like a baby " too ignorant to make the right decisions, too weak to take care of himself, too fucked up to even sleep through the night " just like a baby. You know, I never figured you for the babysitting type, Boss. Bet you’ll get bored with that fast.”
Well this was going to be a fun night, Gibbs thought, as he tried to decide how to respond. He guessed this had been inevitable, Tony had been on the brink for the past few days. Maybe if he pushed he’d finally learn what was eating at Tony and destroying his sleep. The trick would be in figuring out how far to push.
“Okay Tony, have it your way. Let’s look at each of those statements " too ignorant to make the right decisions, huh? Just what decisions are we talking about here, ‘cause I’m not sure?”
“Forget it. Let’s just drop this.” Tony said, realizing he had said too much, desperately trying to figure out how to take it all back.
Gibbs inured himself to the panic and hurt in Tony’s eyes. He pushed on. “I don’t think so Tony. Don’t like that statement? Let’s try another. How about ‘too weak to take care of himself’? That’s a good one.”
“Damn it Boss. Just drop it. I’m just too tired, talking out of my ass,” Tony pleaded.
“Of course, there’s my personal favorite " too fucked up to even sleep through the night.”
“Fuck you Gibbs.” Tony was almost whispering.
“Well, that clears it all up for me. Glad you could explain it so eloquently.”
“ You’ve seen me-Christ, every night- afraid to even close my eyes! Too weak to chase away my own bad dreams, have to have someone else do it for me!” That’s just great, he thought. He hadn’t intended to say that either. Tony ran his fingers through his hair, tilting his head up towards the ceiling, trying to think of a way to get this to stop.
“Please, let it go,” he choked out, still staring at the ceiling.
“Not gonna happen; not this time. We’re gonna deal with it right now. We aren’t taking this home with us.” When Gibbs said that, Tony’s head snapped back down.
“Yes we would, don’t you get it? That’s exactly what we’d be doing. That’s why this won’t work. It goes everywhere with me!” Tony was now looking directly at Gibbs, something wild and feral showing in his eyes.
“What does Tony? Tell me what’s eating at you.”
“Everything Gibbs- my father, Jeanne, Kate, Jenny, even fucking Jeffery White - every case I’ve screwed up, everything I deserve to be punished for. And there’ll be more. Just look at me now. At least this time I managed to only get myself hurt. Now I can’t even take care of myself; you’ve got to drop everything and look after me. How long is it going to take before you get tired of it and then what will I do?” and with that Tony turned his head away, tears streaming unabated down his face.
There it was, not the particulars, but at least the roots. Well he’d asked for it; what are you going to do now, Jethro, he asked himself?
“Listen up Tony. I’m gonna tell you this once more, and then we’re gonna move on. I’m not good at this kind of thing, but I’ll try to do it, for you Tony-only for you. We talked about this a little the other night, but apparently I wasn’t clear enough. You listening now?” he asked, and waited for Tony’s reluctant nod.
“Let me answer some of those questions for you Tony,” Gibbs said. “Too ignorant to make good decisions? Why do you think you’re my senior agent Tony? Because you have a habit of making bad decisions? Not too likely. You’re the only one I would trust my team to, because you make decisions not only with your head, but also with your heart. You’re better at that than I am, for god’s sake. You can’t save everyone, Tony, but that doesn’t mean you’ve made a bad decision. Sometimes you’re not the right one to save them "that was Jeanne. Sometimes people won’t let you save them-that was Jenny. Sometimes no one can save them-that was Kate, and sometimes they just don’t deserve to be saved-and that was Jeffery White. You don’t get to win them all Tony, no one does.”
Then Gibbs went out on a limb, remembering the ‘my father’ statement. “And if someone called you ignorant too many times at some point in your life, that doesn’t mean you really were. It means they needed to make themselves feel better at your expense.”
“Too weak to take care of yourself? You’ve been sick enough to kill almost anyone else. This is twice you’ve defied the odds and surprised even your doctors. You did that because you’re strong. And so now you need a little help while you finish healing yourself. That doesn’t make you weak. Seems to me you’ve been taking care of yourself for a long time, Tony. Maybe too long. Sometimes it’s weaker not to let someone else help. I know that because I made that mistake. I ran away, down to Mexico, rather than let the rest of you help me. So accepting my help doesn’t make you weak Tony, it makes you smart and strong. Just like you’ve been proving these last couple of nights.”
“And that brings us to not being able to sleep through the night. What you’re experiencing is called night terrors. Know how I know that? Because I’ve had my share of them. They come after a traumatic event, and almost being beaten to death qualifies as that. They don’t go away immediately, but talking about them to someone helps. They’re just dreams, and if you can describe them they loose their power over time.”
“That’s all I’ve got Tony. You can thank Ducky for this. He’s the one sneaking books on philosophy and achieving Zen by me. You just got more from me than all of my ex-wives combined.”
“Maybe that’s why they’re exes,” Tony joked lamely.
“Could be, Tony. Could be. Oh, one last thing; if I were gonna get tired of you it would’ve happened a long time ago.”
“Duly noted Boss.”
“So how about we start dealing with some of the stuff in the room, so we can get out of here tomorrow?”
“I’d like that.”
And just like that the subject was dropped and the mood in the room lightened several shades as Gibbs set about organizing all the things Tony had accumulated over the past week. It was decided that the flowers and balloons would be donated to the hospital, to be given to lonely patients. Get well cards were gathered up and stashed in the shopping bag, along with the books, magazines, and CD’s and player. A garbage bag was procured from the nurses’ station and all of the stuffed animals were housed in it. Finally the room was packed up and they were ready for the morning.
After being given his bedtime medicine and taking care of necessities, Tony was finally ready to sleep. He looked over, studying Gibbs, who was sprawled out in the chair, finishing up the crossword puzzle Tony had lost interest in a half hour ago. He had been quiet for most of the remainder of the evening; Tony didn’t know if that was because he had exceeded his daily allotment of words or if he was giving Tony time to absorb what had been said. Tony knew the next step was his to make.
Taking a deep breath, he said, “Hey Boss? I think I should probably try to get some sleep now. You want to tuck me in?”
“I could do that,” Gibbs answered with a smile, as he stood and came over to the bed. He reached over, pulling the covers up higher onto Tony’s body, smoothing them over him lightly with his hands. Then he slid his left hand under Tony’s neck and gently massaged the tight muscles he found there. Eventually his hand found its way up into Tony’s hair, where it softly fingered the strands, pulling slightly and then releasing, occasionally feathering across Tony’s scalp. Gibbs loved the feel of Tony’s hair. By the time he stopped, Tony was tingling all over, his eyes closed, his body concentrated on the sensations.
“Not sure that that’s the best way to make me sleep, Boss,” he said with a soft moan when the fingers disappeared.
“It’ll give you something different to dream about, Tony,” Gibbs answered softly, and then he reached back up, and traced Tony’s lips with one finger, remembering last night and wanting to feel them once more. When Gibbs removed his fingers, Tony opened his mouth, ready to say something. Lightly, Gibbs pressed his index finger back to Tony’s lips, silencing him, and said, “Not now, Tony. Just go to sleep for now,” and he shivered when Tony kissed the finger, indicating his acquiescence.
The morning flew by in a whirl of activity. Instructions were heaped upon instructions, reinforced by a ream of Xeroxed written reminders. Gibbs was glad of that because the amount of information they were presented with was staggering. Finally, papers signed, bags all packed and carried out; a wheelchair was rolled into the room, ready to take Tony to Gibbs’ awaiting car. There was a slight disagreement between Gibbs and a nurse’s aide over who was going to push Tony out, Gibbs emerging victorious. They were just about out the front doors of the hospital when Gibbs heard, “Gibbs, Tony, wait a second. Hey, hold up a minute.”
Turning to look behind him, Gibbs saw Karen rushing out of the hospital, clad in another wild set of scrubs, this one featuring happy faces and the ‘don’t worry’ slogan, brandishing a digital camera.
Catching up to them she exclaimed, “I’m so glad I caught you guys. They processed you through discharge sooner than I expected.” She stopped a second to catch her breath. “You can’t leave without me getting your picture Tony,” she said, as she went down on one knee, taking herself eye level with him. “Okay, smile pretty for the camera, and say cheese.”
Tony gave a sloppy grin, and his “cheese” was accompanied by a bright flash.
Gibbs was laughing, when he was suddenly blinded by a second flash, this one aimed at him.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” Karen said. “That expression does look good on you Gibbs.” Then she reached out and gave him a hug, saying, “Take care of him. If you ever need a reminder, you can come visit me and take a look at my book.”
Looking at both Gibbs and Tony, she said, “Don’t forget my favorite Shakespearean quote, you two " ‘How poor are they that have not patience. What wound did ever heal but by degrees?’ I think it applies to you both.” Then she gave Gibbs a little push and said, “Get going. You don’t want to still be here when the doctors decide they made a mistake in letting him go.”
Gibbs surprised himself by leaning over and giving Karen a small kiss on the check. “Thanks for everything Karen.” And then, with a wave, he pushed Tony out the door.
“What was that all about Gibbs?” Tony demanded. “Should I be jealous?”
“Nothing for you to worry about, Tony. Nothing at all. Let’s go home.”
8:00 a.m. found Gibbs pacing the room like a caged tiger and Tony lying in bed watching the news, trying to ignore Gibbs. They were both nervous, wondering what Dr. Anderson wanted to discuss with them, and were trying to deal with their anxiety with the only options available to them. When Dr. Anderson walked through the door a few minutes later, Gibbs pounced on him
“What did you want to talk about?” he demanded.
“Good morning to you too, Gibbs,” Dr. Anderson laughed. Then he looked over at the bed, inclined his head, and said, “Tony.”
Tony smiled his greeting.
“Why don’t we pull up a couple of chairs and then we can talk,” suggested Dr. Anderson.
Gibbs stomach contracted and flipped. In his experience only bad things followed the suggestion, ‘let’s sit down and talk’.
“I’m just fine standing,” he said, irrationally believing that a refusal to sit would ward off unpleasant news.
“Okay, well, I wanted to discuss what happens next.” Dr. Anderson said.
“Excuse me?” Gibbs replied, not following him.
“Next, after Tony gets released.”
“Is that going to happen soon?” Tony asked excitedly.
“I was thinking about tomorrow. If you think you can deal with that?” Dr. Anderson said, grinning as Tony literally bounced up and down on the bed with glee.
“Looks like that works for him,” Gibbs observed dryly, secretly wishing he could be as effusive as Tony. “What time will he be released?” he asked, speaking loudly enough to be heard over the top of Tony’s celebration.
“Early afternoon I should think,” was the reply. “We’ll want to take some final x-rays, just to confirm the healing process and respiratory therapy will want to have a final session with him. The nurses will need to go over all of his medications and the care needed for the various wounds and incisions. He’ll need to schedule follow up visits with Dr. Pitt and the ortho guy.” He paused, letting all that information sink in, and then continued. “Do we need to send over an occupational therapist to help him figure out how to manage on his own until he’s healed?” Dr. Anderson asked, already suspecting what the answer would be.
“That won’t be necessary. He’s going to be staying at my house until he’s better. His apartment would be too hard to navigate on crutches. I’ll be here in the morning so that I can hear all of the instructions too.”
Tony had quieted down by this point and was listening closely to the conversation.
“What about work, Boss?” he asked.
“Vance’ll give me another day off. It’s not like we’re working a big case right now.” Gibbs shrugged off the question.
“Well then, since that’s settled we need to talk about what you need to do once you’re home Tony,” Dr. Anderson said.
“Get back to having a life!” was Tony’s quick response.
“I wasn’t aware you were dead, DiNozzo,” was Gibbs’ sharp retort, inexplicably hurt by Tony’s comment.
“You know what I mean, Boss. I get to shower, wear real clothes, go outside, eat what I want, watch a movie, take a walk; stuff like that.”
“Not quite,” said Dr. Anderson, amused by Tony and sorry he was about to burst his bubble. “You get to rest in bed, eat a balanced diet of relatively bland foods, take your medicine on a regular schedule, do your breathing exercises, stay off that leg, and keep the incisions dry and clean. Oh, and did I mention sleep, as regularly and as much as possible. But you do get do all that in a more comfortable bed with better scenery. You will not overexert yourself, lift anything too heavy, or spend too much time on your feet.”
“Heard and noted, Doctor,” said Gibbs, glaring meaningfully as Tony. “You can count on him behaving.”
“Alright then, I’ll see you both tomorrow,” Dr. Anderson said, as he turned to leave.
“Tony, I’ve got to go too, or I’ll be late. We can plan things out when I get back,” and with that Gibbs was gone.
Tony looked at the now empty room and sighed, “Well, Happy Birthday to me,” and prepared himself for a very long day of doing nothing.
Gibbs, on the other hand, was busily plotting out how he was going to get everything done that he needed to accomplish that day. He needed get to his house at some point to shower, change and get the guest room ready. He should probably do some grocery shopping, sure that any food in the frig was long past its expiration date, and he needed to run over to Tony’s place to pick up some clothes and toiletries. Oh yeah, he also had to put in an eight hour day at work. By the time he got to the office he had a plan " he was going to divide and conquer.
When he got up to the bullpen, he immediately called Abby up from the lab. Once she got upstairs, had been hugged and handed a caf-pow, Gibbs was ready to launch his battle plan.
“Okay people, campfire!” he announced, smirking at the shocked expressions on their faces at his use of Tony’s term, but sitting down at his desk, waiting for them to gather round.
“DiNozzo’s being released to me tomorrow and we’ve got a lot to do. Everyone is working an extra hour tonight. That way we can each take a longer lunch. Anyone got a problem with that?” he asked, daring them to object.
“Um, sure? No problem. You got it, Bossman!” were all said simultaneously.
“Good. Now, Abby and McGee, at lunch I want you to take Tony’s extra key and go over to his apartment and get what he’ll need to spend about a week or so at my place. Remember to bring one change of clothes back here so he has something to wear home tomorrow. Ziva, over your lunch hour I need you to go to the grocery store and pick up some staples. I’m pretty low on food at home and we all know how DiNozzo likes to eat. Oh, and Ziva? He’s on a bland diet, so make sure its all healthy stuff. You can all swing by my house and drop everything off, the door’s unlocked. Questions?”
“On it Boss! That will be fine. Nope!” were the only responses.
When lunch rolled around Gibbs’ troupes deployed. Gibbs rushed back to his house and took care of his personal needs, then headed back to NCIS to talk to Vance, needing to get the next day off. He was shocked when Vance not only gave him Friday off, but reminded him that Monday was Memorial Day and they were all off then too. Gibbs had been so caught up in what was happening with Tony he had completely lost track of the calendar. Perfect! He thought to himself as he went back down to the bullpen. He had four full days to get Tony completely settled in.
Everyone returned from their appointed tasks, reporting success and time seemed to stop for Gibbs. 6:00 took forever to arrive. At last it was time to leave, grabbing Tony’s clothes Gibbs headed back to the hospital, very pleased with himself, eager to see Tony.
Unfortunately for Gibbs, the Tony that lay waiting for him was not the same, excited Tony he had left behind early that morning. The Tony that now resided in the hospital bed was the Tony who had been left to his own boredom, memories, and worries for too many hours that day, with no way of distracting himself. This was the Tony who didn’t think he was worth any fuss; the Tony who was always afraid he was about to let someone down. This Tony sat staring at the television, pretending to be absorbed in some game show. Gibbs tried ignoring the mood change at first, talking about the day as if Tony had expressed an interest. When that didn’t work, he resorted to humor, poking fun at the contestants on the T.V. show, hoping to get Tony to play along. Finally, on his last nerve, Gibbs confronted Tony.
“Want to tell me what’s eating at you Tony?” he demanded. “You should be happy. You get to leave here tomorrow, instead you’re pouting like a baby.”
Tony gave a bitter laugh. “That’s right Gibbs, ‘like a baby’, that’s a good way to describe me. Just like a baby " too ignorant to make the right decisions, too weak to take care of himself, too fucked up to even sleep through the night " just like a baby. You know, I never figured you for the babysitting type, Boss. Bet you’ll get bored with that fast.”
Well this was going to be a fun night, Gibbs thought, as he tried to decide how to respond. He guessed this had been inevitable, Tony had been on the brink for the past few days. Maybe if he pushed he’d finally learn what was eating at Tony and destroying his sleep. The trick would be in figuring out how far to push.
“Okay Tony, have it your way. Let’s look at each of those statements " too ignorant to make the right decisions, huh? Just what decisions are we talking about here, ‘cause I’m not sure?”
“Forget it. Let’s just drop this.” Tony said, realizing he had said too much, desperately trying to figure out how to take it all back.
Gibbs inured himself to the panic and hurt in Tony’s eyes. He pushed on. “I don’t think so Tony. Don’t like that statement? Let’s try another. How about ‘too weak to take care of himself’? That’s a good one.”
“Damn it Boss. Just drop it. I’m just too tired, talking out of my ass,” Tony pleaded.
“Of course, there’s my personal favorite " too fucked up to even sleep through the night.”
“Fuck you Gibbs.” Tony was almost whispering.
“Well, that clears it all up for me. Glad you could explain it so eloquently.”
“ You’ve seen me-Christ, every night- afraid to even close my eyes! Too weak to chase away my own bad dreams, have to have someone else do it for me!” That’s just great, he thought. He hadn’t intended to say that either. Tony ran his fingers through his hair, tilting his head up towards the ceiling, trying to think of a way to get this to stop.
“Please, let it go,” he choked out, still staring at the ceiling.
“Not gonna happen; not this time. We’re gonna deal with it right now. We aren’t taking this home with us.” When Gibbs said that, Tony’s head snapped back down.
“Yes we would, don’t you get it? That’s exactly what we’d be doing. That’s why this won’t work. It goes everywhere with me!” Tony was now looking directly at Gibbs, something wild and feral showing in his eyes.
“What does Tony? Tell me what’s eating at you.”
“Everything Gibbs- my father, Jeanne, Kate, Jenny, even fucking Jeffery White - every case I’ve screwed up, everything I deserve to be punished for. And there’ll be more. Just look at me now. At least this time I managed to only get myself hurt. Now I can’t even take care of myself; you’ve got to drop everything and look after me. How long is it going to take before you get tired of it and then what will I do?” and with that Tony turned his head away, tears streaming unabated down his face.
There it was, not the particulars, but at least the roots. Well he’d asked for it; what are you going to do now, Jethro, he asked himself?
“Listen up Tony. I’m gonna tell you this once more, and then we’re gonna move on. I’m not good at this kind of thing, but I’ll try to do it, for you Tony-only for you. We talked about this a little the other night, but apparently I wasn’t clear enough. You listening now?” he asked, and waited for Tony’s reluctant nod.
“Let me answer some of those questions for you Tony,” Gibbs said. “Too ignorant to make good decisions? Why do you think you’re my senior agent Tony? Because you have a habit of making bad decisions? Not too likely. You’re the only one I would trust my team to, because you make decisions not only with your head, but also with your heart. You’re better at that than I am, for god’s sake. You can’t save everyone, Tony, but that doesn’t mean you’ve made a bad decision. Sometimes you’re not the right one to save them "that was Jeanne. Sometimes people won’t let you save them-that was Jenny. Sometimes no one can save them-that was Kate, and sometimes they just don’t deserve to be saved-and that was Jeffery White. You don’t get to win them all Tony, no one does.”
Then Gibbs went out on a limb, remembering the ‘my father’ statement. “And if someone called you ignorant too many times at some point in your life, that doesn’t mean you really were. It means they needed to make themselves feel better at your expense.”
“Too weak to take care of yourself? You’ve been sick enough to kill almost anyone else. This is twice you’ve defied the odds and surprised even your doctors. You did that because you’re strong. And so now you need a little help while you finish healing yourself. That doesn’t make you weak. Seems to me you’ve been taking care of yourself for a long time, Tony. Maybe too long. Sometimes it’s weaker not to let someone else help. I know that because I made that mistake. I ran away, down to Mexico, rather than let the rest of you help me. So accepting my help doesn’t make you weak Tony, it makes you smart and strong. Just like you’ve been proving these last couple of nights.”
“And that brings us to not being able to sleep through the night. What you’re experiencing is called night terrors. Know how I know that? Because I’ve had my share of them. They come after a traumatic event, and almost being beaten to death qualifies as that. They don’t go away immediately, but talking about them to someone helps. They’re just dreams, and if you can describe them they loose their power over time.”
“That’s all I’ve got Tony. You can thank Ducky for this. He’s the one sneaking books on philosophy and achieving Zen by me. You just got more from me than all of my ex-wives combined.”
“Maybe that’s why they’re exes,” Tony joked lamely.
“Could be, Tony. Could be. Oh, one last thing; if I were gonna get tired of you it would’ve happened a long time ago.”
“Duly noted Boss.”
“So how about we start dealing with some of the stuff in the room, so we can get out of here tomorrow?”
“I’d like that.”
And just like that the subject was dropped and the mood in the room lightened several shades as Gibbs set about organizing all the things Tony had accumulated over the past week. It was decided that the flowers and balloons would be donated to the hospital, to be given to lonely patients. Get well cards were gathered up and stashed in the shopping bag, along with the books, magazines, and CD’s and player. A garbage bag was procured from the nurses’ station and all of the stuffed animals were housed in it. Finally the room was packed up and they were ready for the morning.
After being given his bedtime medicine and taking care of necessities, Tony was finally ready to sleep. He looked over, studying Gibbs, who was sprawled out in the chair, finishing up the crossword puzzle Tony had lost interest in a half hour ago. He had been quiet for most of the remainder of the evening; Tony didn’t know if that was because he had exceeded his daily allotment of words or if he was giving Tony time to absorb what had been said. Tony knew the next step was his to make.
Taking a deep breath, he said, “Hey Boss? I think I should probably try to get some sleep now. You want to tuck me in?”
“I could do that,” Gibbs answered with a smile, as he stood and came over to the bed. He reached over, pulling the covers up higher onto Tony’s body, smoothing them over him lightly with his hands. Then he slid his left hand under Tony’s neck and gently massaged the tight muscles he found there. Eventually his hand found its way up into Tony’s hair, where it softly fingered the strands, pulling slightly and then releasing, occasionally feathering across Tony’s scalp. Gibbs loved the feel of Tony’s hair. By the time he stopped, Tony was tingling all over, his eyes closed, his body concentrated on the sensations.
“Not sure that that’s the best way to make me sleep, Boss,” he said with a soft moan when the fingers disappeared.
“It’ll give you something different to dream about, Tony,” Gibbs answered softly, and then he reached back up, and traced Tony’s lips with one finger, remembering last night and wanting to feel them once more. When Gibbs removed his fingers, Tony opened his mouth, ready to say something. Lightly, Gibbs pressed his index finger back to Tony’s lips, silencing him, and said, “Not now, Tony. Just go to sleep for now,” and he shivered when Tony kissed the finger, indicating his acquiescence.
The morning flew by in a whirl of activity. Instructions were heaped upon instructions, reinforced by a ream of Xeroxed written reminders. Gibbs was glad of that because the amount of information they were presented with was staggering. Finally, papers signed, bags all packed and carried out; a wheelchair was rolled into the room, ready to take Tony to Gibbs’ awaiting car. There was a slight disagreement between Gibbs and a nurse’s aide over who was going to push Tony out, Gibbs emerging victorious. They were just about out the front doors of the hospital when Gibbs heard, “Gibbs, Tony, wait a second. Hey, hold up a minute.”
Turning to look behind him, Gibbs saw Karen rushing out of the hospital, clad in another wild set of scrubs, this one featuring happy faces and the ‘don’t worry’ slogan, brandishing a digital camera.
Catching up to them she exclaimed, “I’m so glad I caught you guys. They processed you through discharge sooner than I expected.” She stopped a second to catch her breath. “You can’t leave without me getting your picture Tony,” she said, as she went down on one knee, taking herself eye level with him. “Okay, smile pretty for the camera, and say cheese.”
Tony gave a sloppy grin, and his “cheese” was accompanied by a bright flash.
Gibbs was laughing, when he was suddenly blinded by a second flash, this one aimed at him.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” Karen said. “That expression does look good on you Gibbs.” Then she reached out and gave him a hug, saying, “Take care of him. If you ever need a reminder, you can come visit me and take a look at my book.”
Looking at both Gibbs and Tony, she said, “Don’t forget my favorite Shakespearean quote, you two " ‘How poor are they that have not patience. What wound did ever heal but by degrees?’ I think it applies to you both.” Then she gave Gibbs a little push and said, “Get going. You don’t want to still be here when the doctors decide they made a mistake in letting him go.”
Gibbs surprised himself by leaning over and giving Karen a small kiss on the check. “Thanks for everything Karen.” And then, with a wave, he pushed Tony out the door.
“What was that all about Gibbs?” Tony demanded. “Should I be jealous?”
“Nothing for you to worry about, Tony. Nothing at all. Let’s go home.”
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